Fight Or Flight?
by Adara-chan67
Summary: SUPERNATURAL X FAKE CROSSOVER. Dee Laytner and Ryo Maclean, 2 NYPD detectives, meet Dean and Sam Winchester and find themselves unwillingly learning the secrets of NYC. WARNING: MM pairing. NO WINCEST EVER.
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters of Supernatural or FAKE. In fact, it's possible that the only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

Night in New York City is a sight to behold, if you're one of those people that can appreciate the beauty of city lighting. Being a city that never sleeps, its lights can be seen no matter where you are or when, and it could definitely be called breathtaking.

But oftentimes what happens below the lights is far less beautiful. It is well known that New York City is a city alive with everything you could think of—including crime. It really can't be helped because that is the way of the world, and if you can look beyond the bright lights you'll often find that you've been blind and underneath the surface things are a lot more complicated.

XXX

_It had begun to rain, soft, pattering drops that fit so nicely with the atmosphere of daytime New York, but seem dreadfully out of place at night when things are supposed to be clear and alive. The rain permeated everything in the city—ground, air, clothes, hair—slowly and surely seeping through until not a single thing could escape it._

_Even the back alleyways couldn't escape the drizzle, and that was why the man backed up against the wall of one of them was so soaked to the skin._

_He seemed to take no notice of this, however. Nor did he seem to care overmuch about the gun leveled at him. Instead, his eyes focused on the gun's possessor, his hands hanging at his sides and his entire body loose and easy, though his jaw was locked and in his eyes was something undeniably, heart-wrenchingly _sad_, but not afraid. _

"_Please," he said quietly, and his tone matched his face. "You don't want to do this."_

_The gun didn't waver._

"_If you do what you're being told to do, you'll always regret it. And I don't want you to go through that. I don't want to make things worse for you."_

_Not a twitch._

"_Please. I love you…"_

_A gunshot shattered the night._

* * *

AN: I know, it's a page of absolutely nothing. But it IS going somewhere, I promise. And just be warned: this is my first ever FAKE fanfic. 'Nough said. Review, please! 


	2. Chapter 1: A Disappearance

Previously: 

"_Please," he said quietly, and his tone matched his face. "You don't want to do this."_

_The gun didn't waver._

"_If you do what you're being told to do, you'll always regret it. And I don't want you to go through that. I don't want to make things worse for you."_

_Not a twitch._

"_Please. I love you…"_

_A gunshot shattered the night._

* * *

**One Week Earlier Omaha, Nebraska**

Sam Winchester sighed and rubbed at his forehead in irritation, more out of habit than actual physical pain. He glanced at the clock just as it turned to 5:03 and then at his older brother, who was still asleep. He felt a moment of envy, or something very akin to it, but it went as suddenly as it had come and was replaced by the normal exhaustion, a side effect of another near-sleepless night.

With an effort, Sam turned his mind back to the matter at hand—scrolling through dozens of online newspaper articles, trying to find something—anything—that would make a certainty of what were, at the moment, simply suspicions. So far he'd been at it for over three hours, and had found nothing that set off any alarm.

At 5:30, Sam gave up on the internet and switched tactics. Moving silently so that he didn't wake Dean, he slipped out of his chair and over to his brother's bag. After a moment's digging he pulled out an old, thick, faded brown journal, and took it back to their motel room's tiny table.

The contents of the journal appeared to be gibberish at first glance, and at second and third and more, if you didn't know what it was all supposed to mean. Newspaper clippings, pictures, and foreign symbols all mixed with tiny, cramped writing, and every page was filled until not a bit of blank space remained, until the whole of it had the ability to make you dizzy if stared at too long.

But Sam was as familiar with this book as he was with the faces of his father and brother, and it wasn't long before he was immersed in the thing and at last ignorant of the minutes ticking by.

By the time 6:30 rolled around and Dean stirred in his bed, Sam's suspicions had been confirmed.

He glanced up as Dean pushed himself into a sitting position, and smiled slightly at his brother's low early-morning grumbles.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Sam turned a page. "Research."

"It's six in the morning."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Why are you doing research at six in the morning?"

"Because I'm on the crack."

"No, seriously, man—" And then a look of dawning comprehension crossed Dean's face. "You had another dream."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"You okay?" Dean asked casually.

"Yeah." But Sam knew that wasn't what he wanted to ask. He tossed the open book to Dean, who caught it deftly and looked down at it.

After a long time, Dean put the journal aside and said with an air of resignation, "Fine. You can tell me about it on the way."

XXX

**New York City**

Dee Laytner woke very, very slowly, the way he always did when he didn't have an alarm set. His mind was awake much sooner than his eyes, and the first thing that crossed it was a truly wonderful thought. _No work today…_

No work…that meant no cases, no guns, no life-or-death experiences, and, most importantly, no _Rose…_just him and Ryo…

_Hey, how come Ryo isn't here?_ Dee wondered fuzzily, having rolled over to slide an arm around his partner only to find an empty place on the bed. _Can't have a day off without Ryo…that's more work than work is…_

So, sighing and grumbling, Dee rolled off the bed and stumbled out of the room to investigate.

Luckily, Ryo obviously hadn't wanted him to work too hard, because in the kitchen of their small apartment he found the table set with breakfast and a note on the counter. Dee smiled fondly as he read it:

_--Dee_

_Happy birthday! Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up, but I'm running some errands this morning and I did make breakfast, so at least you won't starve before you get your presents. Bikky's at Carol's for the day, so meet me at the Vietnamese place—you know the one—for lunch at 12:30. _Don't be late.

_--Ryo_

Grinning to himself over absolutely nothing at all, Dee threw the note away and went to check out Ryo's cooking. And who knew? He might even eat it, considering that it wasn't likely to kill anyone consuming it anymore.

XXX

It only took about an hour for him to get bored and decide to go out. What he wanted to do, he had no idea, but a man can only stand staying in a two-bedroom apartment on his own birthday for so long without losing his mind.

Maybe he'd go visit the Penguin…

In fact, that was probably the safest idea he could have had. Dee could just imagine the tongue-lashing he'd get from the old nun he called Mother if he failed to show up today, of all days.

By now, he could walk from his apartment to the orphanage where he'd grown up in his sleep, and so he freed his mind for random thoughts as he traced the New York City blocks, allowing it to fill up with images of Ryo and trying to figure out what his gift would be.

Now, Ryo MacLean was quite a distracting person to think about, with his light brown, wavy hair and jet-black eyes and that adorable blush and shy smile. And Dee never really had the greatest attention span to begin with, even on the rare occasions when he wasn't thinking about his love. And besides, he was _off the clock_ today—that meant he was supposed to have a completely trouble-free day.

So maybe, just maybe, the fact that he didn't expect to be pulled into a shadowed alley at ten o'clock on Saturday morning wasn't entirely inexcusable.

XXX

"I really hope Dee doesn't decide to come here," Ryo said distractedly, trying to help hang one of the larger streamers across the main room of the orphanage.

Sister Maria Lane, Dee's mother in all but blood, shrugged as she and Carol finished setting up the snack table. "If he does, I'm sure Bikky wouldn't object to going out and whacking him over the head until he forgets why he's here," she said cheerfully.

"It'd be a better present than the one I got him," Ryo's adopted son replied, smirking as he thought of the little wrapped pink stuffed pony on the gift table.

"Yeah, you definitely surpassed yourself with that one," one of Bikky's friends, Eric, said with a chuckle.

"Whoa, 'surpassed'," another shelter boy mocked. "Big word for someone who can barely spell 'cat'."

"Shut the f—"

"ERIC!"

"Sorry, Mother."

"Cake coming through! Buckle up for safety!" Ryo's Aunt Elena Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Is screeched, throwing open the front door and sweeping in dramatically. "But good God, Ryo, is Dee on the verge of leaving you or something? Because the only reason I can think of for you to order a cake this big would be if you needed to win him back."

Ryo blushed a little. "I just wasn't sure how many people there would be…"

"Relax, I'm just teasing you. And the good thing is, now you'll have enough cake—for your birthday, for his next one, three to five anniversaries, _and _Berkley's wake after Dee gets around to killing him."

"Have you always been this mean and sarcastic, or just since I moved out?"

Elena shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. Wouldn't if I could. I—"

"Ryo! Time!" Mother said, bustling back into the room.

Ryo looked at his watch and was out the door before Elena finished the next word.

XXX

Ryo was unsurprised that Dee was late for lunch. Dee was always late, for everything. But he would be there, Ryo was sure of that. He wouldn't pass up a chance for a free lunch…

Especially free lunch with me. And the possibility of… 

Ryo blushed. What had brought _that _thought on?

That man is the worst influence on me… 

But even knowing that, Ryo felt a fond smile cross his face as he found a seat and settled in to wait.

XXX

Dee groaned slightly as he swam back toward reality, but mainly because he was _stiff_, rather than because of pain. Oh, his head hurt, of course—that was usually the result of being smashed over the head by an unseen assailant—but he'd been hurt much worse, so he was able to push away the pain.

He rolled over onto his back, and stifled a cry when the muscles in his upper arms pulled tight. Damn, he hated being tied up…not that he wasn't used to it, but seriously, it was getting a little ridiculous.

But wait…

This was the loosest, simplest knot he'd ever been tied with…

Struggling into a sitting position, Dee looked around him, struggling with the knot, and looked around.

He seemed to be in some kind of large basement—a rather lived-in basement. In one corner there was a large, comfortable looking bed, the sheets still mussed from sleep, and a few feet from the foot of it was a medium-sized TV set up on a card table. Next to the bed was what seemed to be a small refrigerator. The place was entirely cement, but it was well-lit enough that Dee could see everything.

By the time he finished storing all this information, Dee was free from his bonds, and he got stiffly to his feet and went to explore in earnest.

The only thing he found when he looked closer, though, was a hastily-scrawled note on the bed.

_Congrats on getting free. Granted, I didn't make it too difficult, but good job anyway. I'll bet you're wondering who I am and how you got here, but I'm sorry to say that I can only tell you that you're in an old factory basement-bomb-shelter-thing, and that there's no point in trying to find a way out. I know you will, though, so good luck with that! Oh, and just so you know, the fridge is stocked and the TV has cable. Still waiting on a microwave, though, so you'll have to eat everything cold. Enjoy your stay!_

Dee put the note own, two thoughts running through his head.

One: _What the _hell!

And two: _Ryo's gonna kill me for missing lunch…_

XXX

Ryo began to get worried when 2:00 rolled by without any sight of Dee. The young black-haired cop was often late, but never _this_ late…

At 2:15, he called the apartment, and got no answer.

A minute later, he called Dee's cell with the same result.

At 2:30, he stopped calling, and went back to see if Dee was asleep, as weird as that seemed.

At 2:40, he got back to the apartment and found it empty, but without signs of struggle.

At 2:45, he called JJ, because if _anyone_ could track Dee down at a moment's notice, it was Jemmy J. Adams.

At 2:47, he learned that JJ had no idea where Dee was.

At 3:00, panic began to set in.

XXX

**St. Clair, Missouri**

Sam stirred and groaned, irritably brushing at the hand shaking him awake. "Go 'way."

"Sam, it's time to eat."

"No."

"You've been asleep since we left Omaha. That's enough to get on with."

"Never enough," Sam muttered, but he forced his eyes open and pushed open his door. "I hate you…"

Dean grinned. "Good to know. So," he went on cheerfully as they entered the diner he'd picked to eat at. "Now that you're back among the non-drooling class—"

"Die," Sam glowered.

"I think we should talk about the next gig. 'Cause no offense, but the section of the journal you threw at me was kinda…broad."

"Well, that's just _it_," Sam said, automatically dropping his voice as the door closed behind them. "It's hard to narrow everything down. The place it a magnet for paranormal activity—we could spend the rest of our lives there and still not get rid of it all."

"So we're driving across the _country_, and we don't know what we're hunting."

"Wrong."

"Okay, you've lost me."

"There _are_a ton of different creatures in New York, but I did find something specific."

The conversation was paused for a moment when their waitress came over, but Sam picked up right where he'd left off as soon as Dean had placed their orders.

"Over the last few months, cops have been disappearing from the NYPD. Then, a couple days later, they show up again, commit some horrible crime, and drop out of sight again, and then reappear. It's a pattern, but it only lasts about two weeks to a month. Then the cop turns up dead, usually at home, but sometimes in their own precincts. Now—"

Sam fell silent when the waitress appeared with their food. He allowed Dean a moment's flirting, then smiled at her in thanks and waited for her to leave before continuing.

"All these cops are of different races, religions, beliefs—the only thing they have in common is their reputations as some of NYPD's best cops. These are guys who, according to their colleagues, would never even forget to pay a parking ticket, but now they're committing _murder_."

"Okay, you've got me again," Dean said thoughtfully. "So what do you think—"

"Shapeshifter."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Dude, next time hold an envelope up to your head before you do that."

Sam shook his head. "I forgot to mention the note. Sorry. See, the bodies—they always turn up with notes pinned to their clothes, and they always say the same thing. _Thanks for the mask._ That's it."

Dean thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "Well, we've dealt with shifters before."

"Yeah, but I have a feeling it's…different, this time. This guy doesn't seem to _want_ anything. There's no _pattern_ to what these cops do when they go bad. And he…uh…disposes of them quickly, like he doesn't want them to get caught. So if he doesn't get a kick out of the publicity, and he's not trying for revenge or anything, then—"

"Then what does it want?" Dean finished. "Yeah, that's weird…"

The brothers ate in silence, and it wasn't until they left the diner that Dean spoke.

"Well, I say we drive for another few hours, and then we can stop at a motel somewhere, get some sleep, and when you wake up hours before me tomorrow you can try to dig up something—like, say, a name. Then we should probably leave around seven, and we'll be in New York by tomorrow night."

Sam shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

XXX

**The Next Morning**

**Somewhere in Illinois**

By five in the morning, Sam had determined the NYC newspapers to be of little use. The last report was dated three days ago, but it only told that a body had turned up, and Sam could tell from the article that it was their target who had done it. But the article didn't say anything about any other cops disappearing.

So, Sam turned from public knowledge to confidential information.

It only took him about half an hour to hack into the NYPD database—it was kind of pathetic how easy the safeguards were to get around. After a few minutes' searching, Sam clicked off the computer and went to shake his brother awake, chanting the name over and over in his mind.

Dee Laytner…Dee Laytner…Dee Laytner… 

XXX

**New York City**

**The 27th Precinct**

Ryo couldn't seem to sit still. He'd sit down, stay there for a few seconds, then jump up and pace around the room, then go to his desk, pick up his coffee, down it, set it down, and return to his chair. Then he'd jump up and the cycle would begin all over again.

"Ryo, do yourself a favor," Commissioner Berkley Rose said flatly, watching the other man as one would watch a tennis match. "Pick a spot, stand there, and for God's sake, stop drinking coffee."

Ryo, needless to say, did not heed the advice, just as he had ignored every other word from Rose for the last twenty-odd hours. It wasn't out of disrespect—it simply doesn't pay to show out-and-out disrespect for your commissioner, no matter how tempting the idea is—but Ryo just didn't have room in his head for anything other than worry.

"What time is it?"

"Not yet, Ryo," Rose replied calmly. "Another couple hours."

Ryo resumed pacing. "Commissioner, can't we—"

"You know the rules, Ryo. Probably better than I do." And suddenly the voice wasn't quite so flat—it was tinged with a little bit of annoyance, though perhaps not at Ryo. "We have to wait twenty-four hours from the last time you saw Dee to put out an APB."

"But, sir, he's one of ours—"

"All the more reason to wait," Rose said implacably. "Ryo, look." Ryo paused in his relentless pacing and glanced at him. "Laytner is an idiot—I don't think he could find his way to his mailbox if there weren't landmarks—but he knows this business, and he knows how to take care of himself. He'll be fine. Okay?"

Ryo thought about it for a moment. Then, "What time is it?"

XXX

**A Random Motel**

It was late when Dean and Sam drove into New York City. Sam was once again half-dozing in the passenger's seat, having taken his turn driving when they'd left Illinois. The younger Winchester woke more easily this time, however, and it wasn't long before the brothers were situated in what would be home for the next few days.

Once they were fairly settled in, Sam got online and checked to see if the 27th Precinct had put out a search for their missing cop, while Dean set up the police scanner so that they'd know if the shapeshifter had gone into action yet.

After a few minutes of silent lawbreaking, Sam had all the information on Dee Laytner that he hadn't found before. Position on the force, badge number, age, physical description, and a photo—everything they needed for the hunt and some things they didn't need at all.

Well, except for an actual location, but in Sam's experience, that pretty much tended to take care of itself.

"You're gonna stay up, I guess?" Dean asked after a while, but Sam had a feeling that his brother already knew the answer.

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

"Not all night, okay? You're useless to me if you're dead on your feet."

"Well, with eloquent and thoughtful advice like that…"

"It's not advice. And wake me if something comes in before you go to bed."

"Dean, it's midnight, and you've been driving for most of the day."

Dean quirked an eyebrow, and he didn't need to say anything for Sam to get the message.

Sam sighed. "Fine. I'll wake you up."

XXX

**Somewhere Else In New York City**

The shape-changer had forgotten his true name long ago. Names didn't matter when you changed identities the way a normal man changes his shirt. In truth, he had never really cared about it, anyway. He had an extraordinary gift, and that was more important than any name or title.

For many years—years he'd lost track of almost as long ago as when he'd forgotten his name—he had walked this world, changing in form but never in spirit. And for as many years, he had used his gift to do what so many others were too cowardly to do—he'd acted on impulse. Whatever he felt like doing at a given moment, he did, without thinking twice.

And eventually, he'd moved beyond himself. He'd begun to act on the impulses of the shape he'd taken. That is to say, he took _past_ impulses, from the memories he downloaded from each shape as a normal man downloaded files on a computer, and he acted on those. The murderous ones, at least—the shifter had no interest in chasing men or women, or in doing the other lame things that often cross the human mind.

Dee Laytner was no different. He'd had the impulse to kill before—not many times, and never with anything remotely approaching a serious thought, but he'd had it, and that was what counted.

But first…

The shifter smiled slowly as he looked across the street at the shabby apartment building he'd been waiting at. He had seen a certain young woman entering and leaving this building at all hours over the last couple of weeks, and suddenly he had the impulse to pay a visit…

XXX

**An Hour Later**

**The Winchesters' Motel Room**

"Dean. Dean, wake up."

"Wha—?"

"A call came in on the scanner. Rape and murder, right around the site of the shifter's last crime."

XXX

**Half An Hour Later**

**Ryo and Dee's Apartment**

Ryo had been up for two days straight, running on worry and fear and adrenaline. But those things can only keep a body going for so long, and at long last he had returned to the apartment to try and grab a couple of hours of fitful sleep.

He had almost—almost—managed to drop off when…the phone rang.

"Ryo?"

Ryo's heart plummeted at the sound of the voice, and a sick feeling welled up in him.

It was JJ.

And he'd been crying.

* * *

AN: Well, there you have it. Explanations are forthcoming! Review, please! 


	3. Chapter 2: A Reappearance

AN: I am SO SORRY I forgot about my wonderful MediaMiner reviewers! I just realized I neglected to reply to you guys…I'll remedy that right now.

**Raven Black**: I'm really sorry to tell you that the teaser will remain just that for basically the entire story, up until like the last chapter. It's mean, and if I saw myself doing this I would have to beat the crap out of myself, but I wanted to catch attention. Doesn't seem to have worked, since you two and a couple of FanFiction people are the only ones who have so much as glanced at this fic, but that's okay, because I still have you guys and I'm grateful for it! Thanks so much for reviewing!

**gddsinferno**: Thanks for reviewing! I have TWO chapters up now!

* * *

Previously:

"_Ryo?"_

_Ryo's heart plummeted at the sound of the voice, and a sick feeling welled up in him._

_It was JJ._

_And he'd been crying._

* * *

**Half An Hour Later**

**NYC Morgue**

"Ryo, I don't think this is such a good idea," FBI agent Diana Spacey said, her tone unusually gentle as she guided Ryo into the spacious, well-lit room that nevertheless couldn't hide its dark nature.

"Which one is it?" Ryo asked, disturbed by the chill flatness of his own voice.

"Ryo…"

"Where, Agent Spacey?"

Diana sighed, and strode quickly and determinedly to one of the silver doors lining the walls. Her hand on the small square, she turned to face him. "Ryo, you need to be prepared. Dee was shot with a full clip directly to the heart. The bullets were packed so close together that it was almost impossible to separate them. The bastard used silver bullets, for whatever reason, but those were already packed up as evidence. The point is…he's a real mess, Ryo."

Ryo felt each brutal sentence hit him like the silver bullets that had taken his lover, and he very nearly gave up the idea. But somehow…somehow it was very important for him to see this.

"Open it."

Diana let out a long breath, and pulled the handle.

Ryo had thought he was prepared. As a cop in one of the world's most dangerous cities, he had seen a great many ugly and disgusting things—things a thousand times worse than a gunshot wound to the chest, and though he had felt it all very keenly, and been deeply affected by it, he had always been able to handle it.

But today, he would learn the difference between studying the body of someone you've never met, and gazing upon the lifeless face of a loved one lost.

The sight of Dee struck him like a physical blow, and he took a stumbling step back without registering it. "Oh, my God…" he murmured, his voice so soft that only he heard it.

Dee Laytner's killer had obviously known what he was doing, because the rest of Dee's body was untouched. There were no facial bruises or contusions, so there hadn't been any fight beforehand. But his chest was a mess—so many bullets had entered it that where there should have been separate entry holes, there was only a large, gaping wound. The blood had long since stopped flowing, of course, but no one had stitched up the wound yet, since the investigation of the body was still going on.

Ryo suddenly felt a strong desire to throw up, but he swallowed it with an extreme force of will and took a slow step closer, his mind stubbornly refusing to believe what he saw. There was no way Dee had gotten caught and killed without a fight…he was simply too good a cop for that…

_He's too good to die…this wasn't supposed to happen…oh, God…_

"His cross."

He said it without thinking, his eyes fixed on Dean's chest.

"What?" Diana asked, still using that gentle tone as if he were a frightened two-year-old.

"It's…a necklace. A silver cross. He wears it all the time—he _never_ takes it off, but it's…it was under his shirt usually. I want it. Get it out of evidence lockup, Diana. I don't care how."

Diana looked puzzled. "Ryo…"

"Don't tell me you can't. You're FBI. I…I need that cross, Diana. Please.'

"Ryo…" Diana interrupted. "Ryo, there _wasn't _any necklace."

XXX

**Meanwhile**

**Some Random New York Street**

"So _why_ are we still here?"

"Because," Sam said calmly, "when I spoke to the cops earlier today they said that this area has been the center of all the criminal activity around here for _months_ now, but they could never find any evidence linking one single person to the crimes. Well, _we_ know why that is—it wasn't one person who's been doing it."

"Yeah, I get all that. But Sam, we found the shifter, in case you forgot. We chased it two blocks from that woman's apartment and then loaded it with silver bullets."

"I don't need a review, Dean."

"Well, apparently you do, because we're still hanging around the thing's perimeter like we expect it to show up again."

"That's not why we're here," Sam said absently, pausing for a moment in indecision, then nodding as if to himself and turning down a narrow side-street.

Dean looked at him, puzzled, but followed anyway. "Then why _are_ we here?"

"To find Dee Laytner," Sam said simply, now moving slowly along the street lined with shops, warehouses, and factories, pausing at each of them before moving on.

"…Oh," Dean said, as if that thought had never occurred to him. "Well…that makes sense, I guess…since no one will be looking for him…"

"Exactly…so we need an actual location. And even then we probably shouldn't use his name. Just call in a tip with something like one of their cops is being held somewhere, and leave it at that."

"Okay, so all of that I get. But how the hell are we gonna _find_ him? He could be _anywhere_, in all of New York. What, do you plan on checking every freakin' _building_?"

Sam paused as they reached another door, then shook his head slightly and kept walking without replying to the question.

"Okay, I give. What are you _doing_?" Dean finally asked in frustration.

"Waiting," Sam replied, tilting his head as if listening for something.

"For _what_?"

Sam held up a hand, as if asking for silence—even though there was nothing to hear—as he stopped at the next building. He didn't move on as quickly this time, however. Instead he stepped closer and put a hand to the wall, and got a look on his face like he was thinking very hard.

"Man, who do you think you are? Lassie?"

"Shh…" Sam listened—or did…whatever he was doing…for another couple of seconds, then nodded as if satisfied. "Well, he's in there. We can call now."

Dean looked from the door, to Sam, and back again. "How do you…?" And then a thought crossed his mind. "Dude…is this another part of your Shining deal?"

Sam looked a little uncomfortable. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? How could you not know?"

"Would you just _call_?" Sam snapped, irritated. Dean just kept looking at him steadily, and Sam sighed. "Look, can we…not talk about it right now? We have work to do."

Dean watched him for another moment, then shrugged and took out his phone. "Fine. But we _will_ talk about it. _Later._"

He was sure they would.

Just as sure as Sam was that they wouldn't.

XXX

**NYPD 27th Precinct**

Jemmy J. Adams, professional sniper for the NYPD 27th Precinct and psychotic ball of adorable energy on the side, could barely get up the strength to push his pen across the page in front of him, completing a recent batch of reports with his small, loopy signature. With a sigh that seemed to spring forth with all the sorrows of the ages, he pushed the paperwork away and leaned his head into his hands, his entire body still as stone.

He hadn't planned on pulling desk duty tonight. JJ hardly _ever_ pulled desk duty, actually. That was usually reserved for cops who disobeyed orders or something. Cops like…

But things were so screwed up in the precinct right now, and no one was doing what they were supposed to. Marty had taken the night off—no doubt so he wouldn't have to face Ryo. JJ's partner in everything, Drake, and Ted, Marty's partner on the force, Ted, had been called away on an attempted convenience store robbery. Jim was where he always was, but he wasn't doing any forensics work. Even the Commissioner had locked himself in his office with a huge pile of papers, and Agent Spacey had turned up a half hour ago, which was a good thing because she seemed to be the only one willing to and capable of facing Ryo…

_God, how did things get so screwed up?_

And then the phone rang.

XXX

**The Random And Nameless Factory**

Dee Laytner was absolutely certain that he was going to die.

He was not hungry or thirsty—the well-stocked mini-fridge saw to that—and the TV had every channel that the one at the apartment had. The bed was extremely comfortable and the place was fully air-conditioned. All in all, it wasn't a bad place, especially if he was as much a prisoner as he seemed to be. It even had a freakin' _shower_, though how it had gotten there Dee could not for the life of him figure out.

But Ryo wasn't there, and so he was going to die.

It was that simple.

_I think I'm finally getting why people in solitary confinement go nuts…_Dee thought boredly as he lay on the bed, flipping through channels without interest. As has begun to happen at odd moments since he'd come here, he felt anger begin to rise in him. _Why aren't they _looking _for me?_ And then, just as suddenly, he jumped to his friends' defense, against his own mind. _I'm sure they _are_ looking. But seriously, who would think to look _here

Dee sighed, and turned off the TV.

_That's it. I'm doomed._

And then the door at the top of the stairs exploded.

That was really the only term for it—there was a loud crack that Dee recognized as a gunshot, followed by the sound of a lock shattering, and then the door flew open so hard it bounced off the wall.

Dee scrambled off the bed, nearly toppling over in his hurry, and stumbled toward the stairs, his eyes fixed on the shadow darkening the doorway. Then the light in the basement glinted off shockingly purple hair, and Dee froze, cursing silently. _Of all the people to find me…_

But JJ didn't do any of the things Dee had expected him to do. He didn't jump on him with his startling screech of "OH, MR. SEXY!" or try to make out with him or _anything_. He just stood there as if frozen solid.

_Hmm…maybe I got off easy? _Dee thought, a little put off by the silence, and feeling a strong urge to say something.

"Took you long enough. What have you people been _doing_? 'Cause in case you didn't notice I could've used some help…"

"…DEEEEEE!"

As if Dee's words had broken some sort of spell, JJ launched himself the rest of the way down and attached himself to the other man, sobbing like a child and babbling like a maniac.

"I can't believe I found you! Everyone thought you were dead—Commissioner Rose got a call about a murder and he went himself to check it out and he brought back someone in a body bag and he sent it to the morgue and he said it was you and Diana came and _she_ said it was you, too, and I didn't see the body but we all thought it was true and the whole precinct went into chaos but I guess they were both wrong because you're here and—"

"JJ, SHUT UP!"

JJ fell silent abruptly and stood staring at Dee with eyes that still watered slightly.

"Now tell me what's been going on."

JJ opened his mouth.

"_Slowly, _JJ."

XXX

Dee's first thought when he and JJ walked into the precinct was that he had never seen it so empty. The 27th had always been the smallest of the NYPD precincts, but now even of the nine people that worked there, only he, JJ, and Rose were in the building right now. And Rose hardly counted, since he hardly ever left his desk…

"I know, it's awfully quiet. No one felt much like being here after…after we got the news," JJ said, his voice oddly subdued in a way that it had never been before and that Dee had never, ever expected to hear from the other man. But then suddenly he gave a little skip and his voice regained its normal, screechy quality. "Boy, I can't _wait_ for them to come back and see you—"

"Oh, yeah, that'll be peachy," Dee muttered, rolling his eyes. "Where's Ryo?"

"Probably with Commissioner Rose. Unless he's not back from—" JJ cut himself off abruptly, and looked suddenly guilty.

"Back from where?" Dee asked, with a sneaking suspicion that he already knew.

JJ looked away.

"Back from _where_, JJ?" Dee asked slowly, dangerously.

"Back…back from the morgue."

Dee had known what JJ's answer was going to be, but that didn't make it any better. "JJ…how much like me did that body look, exactly?" he asked hesitantly as the two headed for the Commissioner's office.

"Well…I didn't actually see it, but…Commissioner Rose swore it was you. And…and you know we're supposed to examine the bodies pretty closely…" he added as he knocked on Rose's door.

Dee closed his eyes slowly as a voice snapped through the door for them to come in, and then opened them again. _Oh, Ryo…_

XXX

Ryo heard a strange roaring in his ears as he wrestled over the implications of what Diana had just told him. He stepped back from the table and turned his back on the…body…facing the wall as he tried to steady himself. He had never felt so angry in his life.

_He took it…that son of a bitch took Dee's cross…_

And it had to have been taken after, too, because under no other circumstances would Dee let anyone get that thing away from him. It was the most important thing in the world to him, and now some bastard had taken it from him in death…

"Ryo?" Diana asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she touched his arm gently. He jerked away from her, almost violently, but Diana Spacey was not one to pay attention to the meaning of little things like that, and she stepped forward and took hold of him again, this time more firmly, almost to the point of pain.

And just like that, Ryo's anger exploded.

With a snarl that was completely unlike him, he whipped around, his fist lashing out quicker than he thought to stop it, and it was the most violent punch he'd ever thrown.

It didn't matter, though, because the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with Diana leaning over him and the wind knocked completely out of him, trying to draw in air after having forgotten both Diana's agility and her black belt.

They stared at each other for a long time, and then Diana wordlessly took his hand and helped him to his feet. Then she let go of him, and watched as he turned away. Neither of them apologized, and both may have stood there until they died of it if Diana's cell phone hadn't rung just then.

Her eyes still on Ryo's back, Diana took it out and flipped it open. Ryo didn't listen to what she was saying, and he didn't see her eyes widen until they were the size of saucers, her eyes flicking from the body on the table to Ryo and back again.

"Okay. Five minutes," she said, and hung up.

Ryo didn't notice her striding toward him, but he certainly noticed when she grabbed his elbow as she passed and yanked him after her so hard he nearly fell flat on his face.

He tried to pull away at first, but she snapped, "Stop it, Ryo. You're coming with me. Get over it. And who knows, you might thank me later, anyway…"

XXX

Ryo was silent the entire drive back to the 27th precinct. He didn't seem angry with Diana for flipping him or for forcing him to return to the precinct, but even if he had been Diana knew she wouldn't be able to tell. The young man's eyes were hooded and his face expressionless, as if he had become a statue. But his entire body was tense and rigid with steely determination.

Diana had been an FBI agent for a long time now, though anyone looking at her wouldn't have thought so, and she had seen this before—this cold, calculated exterior a person sometimes assumed after losing a loved one. But the mask never stayed up for long, and it seemed to be a fact that the quieter someone was at first, the louder the explosion was when it finally came.

And if this law of proportions was true, then Ryo was going to bring down cities and set the world on fire with the force of his fury.

Diana prayed that Berkley had been quite sane when he'd called her, though it seemed impossible, and that things would never go that far.

The 27th was silent as a graveyard when they entered it, even though it was still late afternoon, and _someone_ should have been at the desk. But the quiet didn't bother Diana. She walked straight past the desk without glancing at it and headed for Berkley's office, her hand firmly clasped around Ryo's wrist.

When she finally reached the door, she knocked twice, since, after all, it _was_ a Commissioner's office—and besides, Berkley might be crying or something—and then she pushed open the door.

XXX

Rose was stunned.

Ryo had never seen Rose stunned.

Ryo enjoyed seeing Rose stunned. It was almost funny, the way it made him all pale and darty-eyed, and caused his hand to shake as he downed a full cup of coffee in two gulps, ignorant of the steam that rolled over the rim of the cup. And it was doubly amusing when he choked, and JJ had to pound hard on his back to keep him conscious, with the air of someone who had done it before, and very recently—like in the last few seconds recently.

But then Ryo figured out what Rose was so stunned _about_, and suddenly came dangerously close to joining his superior in the need for CPR. Time seemed to sort of freeze as he stared into the room, his mind simply refusing to comprehend what he was seeing.

_No…you're seeing things, it's not possible…you left him in the morgue…he's not here…_

But no matter what he told himself, no matter how many times he tried to blink the image away, there Dee remained, standing a couple of feet from Rose and JJ, looking embarrassed and not quite sure what to do now. He looked like a man who desperately wanted to speak but had no idea what to say. So finally, he just reached up and scratched the back of his head and murmured, "Hi, Ryo."

The words fell on deaf ears, though, because right then Ryo caught sight of something dangling at Dee's chest, something silvery and shiny and usually hidden, but not now, for some reason.

Ryo's silent protestations were silenced quite suddenly, leaving only a ringing quiet in their wake. And suddenly, the world was tipped the right way again, and Ryo stopped being confused and stopped asking _why _and _how_, because it just didn't matter anymore.

XXX

Dee wasn't quite sure how it happened. One second, he was facing the door and his love was staring at him like he'd suddenly sprouted two more heads, and the next Ryo was bounding toward him like an exceptionally tall rabbit. He grunted as Ryo grabbed him in a fierce hug that was enough to squeeze the breath straight out of his lungs. And then the other man did something that made Dee sure the apocalypse had come—he shoved Dee against the wall, hard, and kissed him.

Full on the lips.

In front of Berkley Rose.

And not just once, either.

Both of them were oblivious to Berkley's screeches that this was _his_ damn office, for crying out loud, as JJ shoved him unceremoniously out of the room and closed the door behind them, Diana following with a happy sort of smirk on her face.

"Are you hurt?" Ryo asked a little breathlessly, pressing kisses over Dee's cheeks, his forehead, and then finding his lips again.

Dee chuckled a little and ran a hand through Ryo's hair, reaching with the other to wind their fingers together. Ryo's hand immediately tightened on his, almost to the point of pain, and he pressed their lips together again.

"You didn't answer me," Ryo breathed as they parted again. "Are you hurt?"

Dee smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm right as rain, Ryo."

His smile disappeared with a wave of alarm when, upon hearing the words, Ryo suddenly swayed and leaned heavily against him. "But apparently you're not…" he murmured, taking Ryo's chin in one hand and looking carefully into his face. He felt a jolt of shock as he noticed Ryo's appearance for the first time—pale—white as a sheet, actually—with shadows under his eyes that were so darkly purple they were almost black. And he was shaking like some kind of junkie…

"Babe, when was the last time you got any sleep?" Dee asked gently, one of his thumbs running over Ryo's cheek.

Ryo kept on leaning heavily against him, resting his head against Dee's shoulder. "I don't remember…"

"Too long, then," Dee murmured absently. He felt Ryo nod in agreement, and smiled a little. "Come on," he said, already headed toward the door, leading Ryo with him.

"Where we goin'?" Ryo mumbled, though he didn't resist the pull of his partner's arm.

"Well," Dee said with a quiet chuckle, "I'm going to drive you back to the apartment, and when we get there you're going to go to bed, and you're going to sleep until you're not tired anymore."

"An' then what?" Ryo asked with a yawn.

"And then you and me are gonna take a day or two off—during which we will send the house ape somewhere that's _away_—and then we'll come back to work and completely ignore the fact that a person who looks exactly like me is in the morgue, and wait for some other genius to close this case. Okay?"

Ryo nodded. "Okay…"

"Can I have my office back now, then?" Rose asked irritably as they came down the hall and into the main part of the building. He was alone—apparently JJ had wandered off as he was sometimes wont to do—and looking extremely put out, his shock having begun to fade a little and the realization that Ryo was once again lost to him beginning to set in.

"Whatever, Rose," Dee said carefully, steering himself and Ryo toward the building's exit.

"You were in there forever, you know."

"Whatever, Rose."

"You better not have messed anything up."

"That's a little OCD, Rose."

"That's 'Sir' to you, Laytner."

"Whatever, Rose, _sir_."

"Stop saying whatever."

"Whatever you say, Rose, sir."

"You realize I want you back here in two days and no more."

"That's nice, Rose."

"Go to hell, Laytner."

"I'll see if I can't arrange that. Later, Rose."

XXX

**Fifteen Minutes Later**

Dee managed to get the door unlocked and help Ryo inside without too much difficulty, and once the door was closed behind them, they headed straight for the bedroom, Ryo half-stumbling as he walked. There hadn't been much conversation during the drive home—Ryo hadn't been exactly coherent—and Dee didn't particularly want to start one now—not when things were finally so peaceful—but there _was_ one important thing he had to ask…

"Ryo?"

"Hmm?" Ryo asked, snuggling back against him with a satisfied sigh as Dee began to run his fingers gently through the dark blond hair.

"Where's Bikky?"

"Oh…I sent him to stay with Aunt Elena, so he's probably at Carol's."

"And…uh….does he know about the…erm…" Dee trailed off, trying to think how to phrase this.

Ryo sighed again, more sadly this time. "He knows you went missing, but not about _that_, no."

There was a moment of silence as Dee waited for his own thought to strike Ryo. When it didn't, he murmured reluctantly. "Um…Ryo?"

"Hm?"

"Don't you think you should…"

"Call him. Yeah, that might be good…" Ryo murmured, half-sitting up and reaching for the phone. He settled back to the bed and leaned against Dee, who wrapped his arms around him as he dialed, so close that he could hear every word of the conversation.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Carol."

"Ryo?"

"Yeah. Put Bikky on, would you?"

"What? Bikky…Bikky's not here. He's probably at Elena's…since, uh, that's where you…sent him…"

"Carol…"

A sigh. "Okay, okay…"

Then there was some indistinct murmuring, and Dee heard Bikky ask, "Didn't you tell him I'm at Elena's?"

"I did. He didn't believe me."

"Then you didn't lie well enough."

"Or _maybe_ he didn't believe me because every time he's called her in the last three days she's said you're _here_."

"…Did he sound mad?"

"Will you just take the phone!"

Shuffling sounds, and then Bikky's voice came over the line. "Uh…hi, Ryo."

"Bikky," Ryo said calmly, "does Aunt Elena have the slightest clue where you are?"

"Well…I told her I was going to see Carol for a while…"

"And what time did she say to be back?"

"Uh…five…"

"And what time is it now?"

"…Seven…"

"Well, isn't that interesting?" Ryo asked pleasantly.

"Uh…Ryo, could you just…yell at me, or something? 'Cause you're kinda scaring me…"

And suddenly Ryo was laughing.

"Ryo, have you completely lost your—oh, my God," Bikky cut himself off. "You found him."

"Mm-hmm," Ryo said, and smiled as Dee's arm tightened around him.

Bikky was quiet for a moment. Then he said abruptly, "Let me talk to him."

Dee began to shake his head violently, but Ryo smirked and said, "Sure, Biks."

Dee glared daggers at him as he took the phone, but Ryo just smiled innocently. "Hi, monkey-boy."

And then he held the phone about a foot from his face as Bikky began to yell.

"YOU BIG STUPID OAF! HOW THE HELL COULD YOU LET YOURSELF GET KIDNAPPED?"

"Bikky—"

"I MEAN, YOU'RE A FREAKIN' _COP_! YOUR WHOLE JOB IS TO _NOT_ GET KIDNAPPED!"

"Actually, Bikky—"

"AND BESIDES THAT, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU PUT RYO THROUGH?"

"Bikky—"

"HE'S BEEN OUT OF HIS FREAKIN' _MIND_ FOR ALMOST THREE DAYS NOW! AND I—"

"OH, FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, YOU STUPID APE, WILL YOU _SHUT UP_?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Don't you think I _know_ all that?" Dee asked quietly. "I _know_ what I put you guys through. I suck, okay? But I'm back now, and I'm fine, and Ryo's fine. We're all _fine_, Bikky. Right?"

After a moment, Bikky sighed. "Yeah, I guess. So…should I come home, then?"

"Bikky wants to know if he should come home," Dee passed on to Ryo, all the while shaking his head violently. Ryo motioned for the phone, and Dee gave it to him.

"Bikky, why don't you call Elena and just tell her we found Dee and that I said you could stay at Carol's tonight?"

"_What?"_ Bikky asked.

"_What_?" Dee asked a fraction of a second later.

"Well, you might as well. Me and Dee could use some alone time, and you've been such a help lately. You deserve it and it just seems easier anyway. But Bikky," he added warningly. "I'm trusting you a lot here. You will sleep _on the couch_, understood? And you'll be a _perfect gentleman._"

"I know. I promise."

"Okay. Good night, Bikky."

"Hey, Ryo. Tell the freak…tell him I'm glad he's all right. Okay, g'night."

And then he hung up, and Ryo smiled happily as he relaxed against Dee again, suddenly remembering how exhausted he was. He could barely keep his eyes open…and Dee's hand running through his hair so soothingly didn't help matters…

"It's okay, Ryo," Dee said, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. "You can go to sleep. I promise to be right here when you wake up."

"Mm…okay…" Ryo murmured, letting his eyes drift shut as sleep crept up on him. "Love you…"

And then he slept.

XXX

**Meanwhile**

**The Winchesters' Motel**

"I really don't understand why we're not out of here yet," Dean murmured in annoyance, watching Sam fooling with his laptop again. "We've already been here almost three days, and we finished the job yesterday."

"We're still here because we haven't caught wind of anything else yet and there are a ton of things to hunt in this neighborhood alone."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Well, so far I've found a possible vampire nest, a black dog, a _zombie_ dog—"

"Okay, okay, all right, _fine_," Dean snapped. "But once we get those taken care of you stop looking."

"Seriously? You're suggesting we ignore everything else that happens here _all the time_?" Sam asked dubiously.

"Sam, we can't stay here forever. There are other places that need us, too. You know that."

Sam sighed moodily and frowned at the screen. "Yeah…I guess. So should we start with the vampire nest? It's closest to here, I think…"

XXX

Ryo and Dee spent the next two days in utter R&R. They spent the first day or so resting from all the drama—it quickly became obvious that another thing Ryo had neglected to do during Dee's absence was eat—and just generally enjoying each others' company. And the second day…well, I'll leave that up to the imagination of the reader, and say only that Bikky was forced to spend rather a lot of time away from the apartment.

Now, of course, the couple did try for an extra day off work, but apparently Rose was determined to make Dee as miserable as possible—probably for daring to not be dead, Dee thought darkly each time the Commissioner paged him on the second day to remind him, on no uncertain terms, that he was expected to return to work tomorrow.

Of course, Rose offered Ryo the extra day quite freely, considering all the trauma he'd suffered—trauma which, apparently, had not involved Dee in the least.

"I really hate him," Dee murmured grumpily as he and Ryo lay in their bed that night, curled up as close together as they could possibly be.

"I know," Ryo replied soothingly, trying to get even closer. "But don't worry about it. I'm not taking the extra day, so it's not like we won't see each other."

"But it's the _principle _of the thing. He's such a—God, I _hate_ him."

"Yeah, I know you do. I don't like him much, either, but I guess we have to deal with him…" Why couldn't he seem to get _close_ enough?

"But what if I don't want to deal with him? What if I just want to kill him? I—Ryo," he suddenly said gently, interrupting himself as Ryo shifted again, now pressing close enough almost to cause pain.

"What's the matter?" Ryo asked, looking worriedly up at him with that Ryo-innocence that always made Dee fall just a little more in love with him. When Dee simply looked at him with a slight, gentle smile, Ryo blushed slightly. "Oh…"

"Ryo, you don't have to worry," Dee said softly, reaching to clasp Ryo's hand and hold it tightly. "It's over now. I know it'd be just stupid to tell you to forget it, but I _can_ promise you that I'm not going anywhere. Okay? I promise."

Ryo sighed. "I know. I _do_ know that. But I can't get that picture of you lying on that table in the…in the morgue…out of my mind, and I just can't shake the feeling that something else is going to happen…" He shook his head ruefully. "It's stupid."

Dee smirked, and dropped a light kiss on Ryo's forehead. "It's not. I worry about you _constantly_, sometimes for no reason at all. I got used to that a long time ago—it just comes with the territory of loving you more than I've ever loved anything in the world."

Ryo flushed again, but with happiness this time. "I love you, too."

Dee laughed. "I know that. My point is, it's not stupid to feel that way. But…I don't want it to hurt you the way it obviously is. I want you to be okay, Ryo."

Ryo smiled. "I know. And I will be, as long as you keep your promise."

Dee let go of the other man's hand then, but only to wind his arms around Ryo in a comforting embrace. Ryo lifted his head for a kiss, and then he snuggled down to sleep, somehow feeling much better now than he had in days.

XXX

**The Next Afternoon**

**The 27th Precinct**

"I _hate_ him!" Dee exploded for about the twentieth time in the last hour, tossing yet another folder on the stack to be filed.

"Just don't think about him," Ryo replied calmly, adjusting his glasses as he stared at the paper in front of him.

"But why bother forcing us in at all, if we're just gonna spend the whole day on these damn reports! We're _field_ agents! Doesn't he remember that?"

Ryo put the file he was working on aside and stood up as Dee picked up another paper—which he quite forgot about as Ryo suddenly learned over him from behind without any warning, resting his hands on the arms of the chair, and pressed their lips together.

A second later, the folder slipped unnoticed to the floor as Dee reached up to run a hand up and down Ryo's back, deepening the kiss as he did so.

"Laytner, Ryo, I have a case for you," Commissioner Rose said, coming into the office without knocking, looking completely oblivious to what he'd just walked in on.

Ryo leapt back as if he'd been burned, and Dee felt his hatred for Rose increase just that much more.

"Yes, sir?" Ryo asked with careful politeness.

Rose closed the door behind him and leaned against it, talking to Ryo as if Dee had ceased to exist. "It's pretty basic. Series of murders in an area downtown, all the bodies severely mutilated. Tonight you'll go to this street—" He held out a piece of paper, and Ryo took it. "But it's strictly recon for tonight. Don't engage unless it's self-defense. Understand, Laytner?" he asked, suddenly turning to Dee.

"Yeah. I heard you," Dee snapped.

"I'm sorry, you just looked confused…"

Dee frowned. "Should we finish the reports first, _sir_?" he asked, adding a mocking emphasis to the last word.

Rose looked irritated. "Of course not, you dolt. I'll get someone else to do it. You're _field_ agents. Don't you remember that?"

Dee almost managed to wait until Rose was out of earshot before he started yelling.

But not quite.

XXX

"This is so stupid," Dee muttered furiously as he and Ryo headed down their assigned street, later that night. "We've been out here for _hours_."

Ryo reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "Come on, Dee. We're sure to find something soon…"

"Are you kidding me? Hell, Rose probably—"

_CRASH_.

Dee jumped about a foot, and then he and Ryo were racing in the direction of the sound, guns drawn as they headed for a single deserted alley.

Dee really didn't know what he'd expected to find, but whatever it was, it was _not_ what they actually found.

Two men and…a dog.

A really, really _big_ dog.

And the men had guns, and they were aiming them at the dog, and there was something wrong with that dog, but Dee couldn't quite put his finger on it…

Except that apparently the thing was extraordinarily fast, because it disappeared suddenly—and reappeared with its jaws firmly clamped around the arm of one of the men.

Dee could honestly say later that he had no idea what happened next. The man the dog was biting screamed, the other yelled angrily, there was a gunshot, and then…the dog was just…_gone_. No body…nothing. Then the man who hadn't been bitten looked up, and his eyes met Dee's.

There was a long, ringing silence, and then Dee spoke, summing up everyone's thoughts in two words.

"Holy crap."

* * *

AN: There, that's chapter two! Okay, so I know this story has been sadly devoid of De Boyz so far, but that should be remedied in the next chapter!

Now please, please, _please_ review! You have no idea what that would mean to me right now…


	4. Chapter 3: A Chance Meeting

**MediaMiner Reviewers:**

**Raven Black**: Thanks for your review! I think you're pretty much the only person who's come back for more, and that means a lot, seriously. I'll try to keep the Ryo/Dee fluff coming! And, of course, the Rose bashing—I hate that man…

* * *

_Previously: _

_Dee really didn't know what he'd expected to find, but whatever it was, it was not what they actually found. _

_Two men and…a dog._

_A really, really big dog._

_And the men had guns, and they were aiming them at the dog, and there was something wrong with that dog, but Dee couldn't quite put his finger on it…_

_Except that apparently the thing was extraordinarily fast, because it disappeared suddenly—and reappeared with its jaws firmly clamped around the arm of one of the men. _

_Dee could honestly say later that he had no idea what happened next. The man the dog was biting screamed, the other yelled angrily, there was a gunshot, and then…the dog was just…gone. No body…nothing. Then the man who hadn't been bitten looked up, and his eyes met Dee's. _

_There was a long, ringing silence, and then Dee spoke, summing up everyone's thoughts in two words._

"_Holy crap."_

* * *

This whole thing was _not _going according to plan.

It was supposed to be so _simple._ Normal job. Kill the puppy. Fill him with bullets. Make a clean getaway. And naturally, since it was so simple, things started to go wrong fairly quickly.

It had started out well enough—all their time apart hadn't affected the fluid teamwork of the Winchester brothers, and at first it had looked like the job would go smoothly.

_That_ had lasted for all of three seconds.

Until they actually found the animal, and learned that apparently possessed dogs were not only virtually immune to most weapons—which they had already known—but they were stronger and about ten times as fast as your average Greyhound.

Dean had emptied over half his clip, and Sam had used about a quarter of his, before they'd finally decided to approach the problem differently. That is to say, Sam snapped at Dean to stop wasting bullets, and then they'd fallen to trying to think of something else while they danced and dodged and generally looked like morons.

After _that_ minor disaster, Sam had been thrown into a dumpster, and the ensuing crash had been enough to wake up most of New York.

And _then_ came the moment when Sam decided to be _stupid_ in order to get the stupid dog killed. Now, to most people, it would appear that Sam getting caught by the dog wasn't anything more than a simple lapse, likely caused by his collision with the dumpster. But Dean knew his brother much better than that, and he knew that Sam had been caught much more easily than his skill level allowed—even after being thrown across an alleyway.

Yeah, they were definitely gonna have to talk about that later…

Which reminded him—wasn't he supposed to have a talk with Sam about something else…?

Well, whatever. The point was, Sam was stupid.

And, okay, maybe that had gotten the dog killed, but that wasn't the point.

And to top it all off, after Dean had shot the dog while it was snacking on Sam's arm, he looked up and saw…people. People in normal clothes, but they carried guns, so Dean wasn't sure what to think of them.

And one of them looked very familiar…

XXX

The first thing that Dee noticed about the man he was currently locking eyes with was that this was not the first time he had held a gun. The loose, easy grip and the nonchalant stance screamed pretty much the opposite of "novice"…whatever that is.

The second thing Dee noticed was that the other guy wasn't nearly as put off by whatever had just happened in this alley as he himself was. He didn't seem in any way freaked out that he'd just shot a dog in the dead of night in New York City—or that that dog might have been some little kid's pet.

The third thing was that the guy _did_ seem angry. Or…not even angry, actually. Just really, really annoyed, though what—or who—he was annoyed with was difficult to say. His hazel eyes flashed as he looked at Dee, and his shoulders tensed under the faded brown leather jacket he wore.

Dee absorbed all of this in just the couple of seconds it took for the other guy, the one who had been bitten, to move. Slowly, the man rolled over and began to stumble to his feet, holding his arm tightly across his chest.

The guy currently having a staring contest with Dee immediately turned and snapped, "At least wait for me to lend you a hand, idiot." But despite the harsh words, something that didn't remotely resemble irritation flashed in his eyes, and he strode quickly over and put one of his hands under the uninjured arm, the other going around his friend's shoulders.

Dee lowered his gun cautiously, and sensed, more than saw or heard, Ryo come up next to him, his gun already in its holster. "You can put that away," he said calmly to Dee. "They won't give us any trouble."

"How do you know?"

Ryo shrugged, and Dee matched the gesture and put his weapon away, his eyes still trained on the other two men. He had already deduced that the uninjured man was older, though now that his companion was standing it became obvious that _he_ was the taller one. Still, something about the shorter of the two made it clear that he was older by at least a couple of years.

But both of them looked worn and tired, beyond their years, and both looked ready to drop where they stood. They seemed…dangerous, somehow, and Dee wondered why he and Ryo weren't taking them in for questioning yet…

XXX

Dean masked his concern for his brother with the help of long practice, until he was sure that the two men, at least, couldn't see it, though Sam probably did. Carefully, he took Sam's injured arm and raised it, wincing inwardly at Sam's sudden intake of breath.

"It isn't broken," Sam said with certainty, though his voice was laced with pain. "Maybe sprained, though, and it's gonna take stitches."

"Is it something—"

"No, you can just take care of it back at the motel."

"You sure?"

Another small gasp as Dean let go, and then Sam said, "Yeah." Then he lowered his voice so only Dean could hear it. "But what are we gonna do about those guys, Dean?"

XXX

Dee's eyes narrowed in suspicion as the younger man pulled the older closer to him and lowered his voice so that he and Ryo couldn't hear a thing. But in truth, the suspicion was more a habit formed from his years on the force than a feeling sprung from the actual circumstances. Sure, these men were obviously well-trained with guns, and that was slightly disconcerting, if not downright dangerous, but—well, in the end, it still boiled down to the fact that one of them could barely lift his arm and the other obviously cared about him too much to risk something like another fight.

_Besides, I could draw and shoot ten times as fast as _him_, and with ten times the accuracy…_

Dee was jerked out of his thoughts when a sudden movement captured his attention, and he looked up to see the two coming toward him and Ryo, the injured one walking without any support, though the other hovered close enough to him to lend help if it was needed. Dee wondered for a moment if it was always like that—one always here to help the other, though neither said a word about it.

_Hmm…I wonder if…_

But then the older of the two spoke, directly to them this time, and Dee was forced to let the thought lie.

XXX

Dean really wished he could place this black-haired man who kept staring at him, but though recognition flickered at the edge of his memory, no name came to him. The other man, though, was a complete stranger to him—and _he_ was watching Sam, anyway.

Dean didn't feel like another staring contest, so he only let the silence continue for a couple of seconds before he snapped, "Are you going to get out of the way or not?" He felt Sam's eyes on him, and he sensed the implications of that look, but he ignored the warning and continued. "I can tell that you want to stop us, and ask us about that damn dog, but I think you should just forget about and _move. What,_ Sammy?" he asked, turning around when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"It's Sam," Sam said flatly. "And you do realize they're cops, right?"

"…Oh."

Sam glared, probably driven to distraction by the pain in his arm. "You're an idiot."

"Just trying to hurry things along," Dean grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes and took a step forward, holding out his uninjured arm and managing to grimace only slightly. "I'm sorry about him. He's just a little on edge."

The brown-haired stranger smiled easily and said, "Don't worry about it. But he's right, you need to get your arm taken care of. Do you need a ride to the hospital?"

"No, thanks. We have a car." But then he looked back and forth between the two men, and sighed. "You have to question us, don't you?"

It wasn't really a question, but the brown-haired man answered reluctantly. "Yes."

Sam sighed again. "You can come with us to our motel, then."

"Sam," Dean said warningly.

"Dean, shut up," Sam replied, but without anger. "Just…don't argue, okay? I don't feel like it right now."

Dean's eyes snapped to his face, and he saw exhaustion there that he hadn't noticed before. He softened immediately, but didn't permit it to show as he turned back to the two cops and snapped, "Fine. You can follow us to the motel."

"Huh? I thought you were going to a hospital," the black-haired, familiar looking guy said, sounding confused. "I mean, your friend here—"

"You think I've already forgotten that my brother's arm has been ripped open?' Dean asked sharply. He didn't notice the smirk that darted across the black-haired man's face, luckily. "But we take care of our own. Besides, we can't afford any kind of hospital right now."

"But isn't that—"

"It's normal for us, is what it is, and that's all I'm going to say. Now _move_, already!" he said, his voice tinged with concern as he looked at Sam and took stock of how pale his brother was getting.

The man looked ready to say something else, but his companion put a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him off to the side. Still grumbling about what he saw as a long and unnecessary delay, Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder and supported him out of the alley.

"Hey."

Dean turned and looked at the brown-haired man with an air of impatience that said more than words could have.

"I'm Randy MacLean. This is my partner, Dee Laytner."

Dean looked at him for another moment, completely masking the bell the name rang in his head. "I'm Dean. And my brother's Sam." He didn't give a last name, and the black-haired man, Dee, immediately looked suspicious, but Dean ignored that and the brothers continued toward the car, the two cops following behind.

Dee gave a low whistle when he clapped eyes on Dean's '67 Impala. "That's _yours_?" he asked. He reached out to touch the hood, but then he paused, and dropped his hand, contenting himself with a murmur of, "She's a _beauty_…"

Now, normally, such praise of his beloved car would have won at least Dean's grudging friendship in a heartbeat, but tonight he happened to be in an extraordinarily bad mood, and Dee Laytner had already managed to get on his bad side. So, in order to keep his dignity intact, he only allowed himself a small smile, a proud pat on the waxed black hood of the Impala, and a grudging, "Yeah, she is."

"Why didn't you touch it?' Randy asked curiously.

"Yeah, I was kinda wondering that too," Sam added, leaning heavily against the car.

Dean and Dee both looked scandalized, shocked that they didn't know. "Dude," Dean said. "You don't touch another man's car without permission. It's, like, the _height_ of rudeness."

Both Sam and Randy rolled their eyes.

"Pathetic."

"Shut up," Dean snapped at his brother, helping him into the car and slamming the door to cut off any further judgments. Then he went around to his side and opened his door. Before he got in, he turned and said to Dee, "Keep up, because I'm not slowing down."

"Hey," Dee said sharply, "NYPD, man. We don't have to let you go to your motel at all. We could just as easily bring you to a hospital and_ then_ down to the station. You're only making the decisions because my partner's too nice for his own good."

"Yeah, not much with the caring," Dean replied calmly, and before Dee could said anything more, the door slammed shut and the engine started up. "NYC _sucks_," he fumed, pulling out on to the road.

Sam smirked.

"What are you laughing at, _Sammy_?"

XXX

Dean was obscurely disappointed that the car behind them kept up perfectly all the way to the motel. He had been hoping to lose the cops among the traffic of New York, but he probably should have known better. But that didn't stop him from using rather colorful language when Dee and Randy pulled up and parked next to them in the lot.

"Shut _up_, Dean," Sam snapped, climbing out of the car. "You're going to get us arrested."

Dean's curses subsided then into nothing more than annoyed grumbles as he went around the car to join his brother. He didn't pay any attention to Dee and Randy, but rather just motioned irritably for them to follow him and Sam. Nor did he invite them in—just left the door open and they followed him in and closed it.

Dean sat his brother down on his bed, and Sam leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. "You okay?" Dean asked, and waited for Sam's nod before he went and got the first-aid kit. Theirs was rather larger and more tightly packed than most, containing everything from bandages to butterfly stitches.

God, he hated this part of hunting. He'd been doing it sporadically since his teenage years, but it never got easier. But aside from cloistering Sam and forcing him to stay in the car for the rest of his life, there was only one thing for him to do—let out a sigh, pull out the alcohol, thread, needle and a roll of bandages, and get straight down to work.

XXX

Sam only cried out twice—once when the alcohol touched his scratches, and once the first time the needle slid in—and they were only small cries, hardly more than groans. In spite of himself, Dee was impressed with the man's stoicism—and also uneasy. It was obvious that they'd done this before, but how many times? How often had one of them been hurt, and gone without professional treatment?

But the question foremost in Dean's mind was…_why?_

_Why_ did they choose that way of doing things, when a hospital would have been a lot less crude and a whole lot less painful? Why would _anyone_ choose that?

"Why, Sam?"

Dean's voice cut into his thoughts in an unexpected mirror of his own.

"Why did you do that?" Dean went on, and Dee couldn't figure out what he meant.

Sam obviously knew, though, because he shrugged his good shoulder and spoke calmly. "We couldn't come up with anything else, and you were wasting all of our ammo."

"Well, that's no reason to let it get you!"

"Got you a clean shot, didn't I?" Sam asked wryly.

"Hey, I would have gotten that thing anyway, if you'd given me enough time," Dean protested.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"You're a moron, Sam." But despite the anger in his tone, Dean's hands were steady and gentle as he continued with the stitches. "Next time you think of a suicide mission, at least check with your big bro first, okay?"

Sam didn't reply to that, and for a while silence reigned. Then, finally, Dee reached the end of his patience. "All right, since clearly no one's gonna start this on their own, would either of you care to explain what you were doing in a deserted New York City alley, fully armed, in the dead of night, with what seemed to be a really angry _puppy_ after you?"

XXX

Dean finished off the stitching and cut the thread in silence, trying to gauge exactly how much to tell. Then he packed the needle and thread, unrolled the bandages, and began wrapping it around Sam's arm, all without speaking. Sam didn't say anything, either, and somehow Dean could tell already that he was going to have to do most of the talking.

"Well?" Dee demanded, crossing his arm and looking irritably from one brother to the other.

Dean shrugged, and tried for a lighthearted tone. "We were just passing by, and we heard something in the alley—"

"Bull," Dee said conversationally. "How about the truth, okay? Otherwise we'll have to take you down to the station, and no matter how annoying you are, you do _not_ deserve to have Berkley Rose inflicted on you."

"Who—?" Sam asked, obviously to keep his mind off the bandage tightening around his arm more than anything else.

"Our superior on the force," Randy explained. "Dee's absolutely certain that he hates the man."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Dee snapped.

"But he's right about one thing. You do _not_ want him questioning you. There's a good chance you'd kill him, and then you'd be facing a murder rap as well as vigilantism charges. And you should know…if Dee can't tell when you're lying, then I can."

Dean sighed, and tied off the bandage. Unhurriedly, he packed up the kit and put it in his bag, while Sam moved gingerly to stretch out on the bed. Only then did Dean remember Sam's collision with the dumpster, and he realized how much Sam must be aching right now.

"Dean."

He turned to his brother, who had been watching him the whole time. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Just tell them, man."

"They're gonna think we're nuts," Dean warned.

"Better than arresting us."

Dean went and sat down on the bed next to his brother's legs, resting his hands on his knees.

"Go on," Randy said, but not in a way that spoke of interrogation.

Dean sighed again, wondering how best to phrase it. Then he shook his head, and just plowed into it.

"What you saw us kill back there—it wasn't a dog."

Dee raised an eyebrow. "Well, then I'd be _really_ interested to know what it actually was. A giant cat? Or maybe a really small bear?"

Dean smiled wryly at the hit. "I wish. But the truth is, it wasn't an animal of any kind. Not on the inside, at least."

"Do you think you could be a little bit clearer?" Dee asked pleasantly.

So, Dean spoke more bluntly than he ever had. "There was an evil spirit inside the dog."

Dee's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. "What?"

"The dog was possessed," Dean continued, his voice flat and calm. "That's why it could move so fast, and that's why it attacked Sam. And trust me, if I hadn't shot it it'd have gone for you guys, too, and your bullets would have been completely useless."

"So yours worked because…?"

"They were silver."

Dee smirked. "This just keeps getting better and better. Silver bullets and possessed pups—what's next, vampires?"

"Actually, we haven't seen a vamp in a couple months. I'm pretty sure there's a nest somewhere nearby, but we haven't gotten around to it yet. The last thing we killed was a shapeshifter." Dean's gaze shifted from the wall in front of him to Dee's disbelieving face. "A shapeshifter in the form of an NYPD cop who looked an awful lot like _you, _Dee Laytner."

There was a long silence, and in that time Dean could see all of the facts falling into place in Dee's head—his own kidnapping, the chaos over his supposed death, and then the confusion over his mysterious reappearance even as the other body lay in the morgue. Dean had learned about all of these events from Sam, who seemed to have an odd interest in current events, but now he wondered for the first time what it must have been like to be the _focus_ of all that confusion and bewilderment, and he could almost sympathize.

But the feeling disappeared when Dee said flatly, "It's not possible. You're crazy. Either that or you're just hiding something."

Dean flushed an angry red, and his hands clenched into fists. He'd expected the questioning of his sanity, but the accusation sent a thrill of anger through him. However, his voice was calm and cool as he said, "See, Sam? Completely close-minded."

That single sentence seemed to snap whatever was left of Dee's patience, and he stood up. "Well, if you're going to stick to that story, I guess we'll have to go down to the station. Hadn't planned on going back tonight, but…"

"I think they're telling the truth, Dee."

Dee stopped mid-sentence and turned to Randy, who had been silent up to now. "Ryo, what are you saying? It's _insane_! That body just _looked_ like me—it couldn't have been…what they said. Right?"

Randy shook his head. "No…you didn't see…him. He didn't just _look_ like you—he _was_ you—every detail was _you_." He seemed to be having extreme difficulty speaking, his voice choked and thick. "Trust me, I…I got a really good look."

Dee suddenly looked sad. "Ryo…" he said softly, reaching out to put a hand on Randy's shoulder.

A blush fanned out over Randy's face, for some reason, and he shook his head. "I'm fine."

Dee looked doubtful, but he didn't say anything, and for a moment there was silence.

"Hey, why did you just call him—um, Ryo, right?" Dean asked. "I thought your name was Randy…"

The brown-haired man reddened slightly again, though his reply didn't seem to warrant it. "Ryo is my Japanese name. It's what Dee calls me."

"And it used to be _only_ me who called him that," Dee said grumpily. "But then Rose picked it up, and then everyone _else_ at the damn precinct, so now it's not even a nickname anymore. For some reason, he sounded very put out.

"Well, anyway, I think they're telling the truth," Ryo—now he was going to be "Ryo" forever, Dean could tell, why that was Dean didn't know—said, returning to the subject and talking to Dee again.

"Aren't you supposed to be the realist here?" Dee asked, annoyed.

"Normally, yes. But…well, things have been…strange, lately." When Dee just looked skeptical, Ryo sighed. "Look, it can't hurt to hear them out, can it?"

Dee looked at him for a few seconds, then sighed and sat down again. "Fine. Talk."

Dean thought a second, then half-turned in his seat. "Sammy, why don't you—" He cut himself off mid-sentence and sighed, though he was smiling a little as he carefully pushed himself off the bed, trying not to move it too much, and moved silently to the other bed, chuckling slightly.

"Right when I need him, the kid finally gets some sleep…" Then he shook his head, and began to talk.

XXX

It was about half an hour before he stopped talking, and leaned back against the wall with a quiet sigh. He hadn't covered everything—not even close—but rather had stuck to the basic and most important facts—the ones that pertained directly to New York City and the NYPD, and the ones about Dee Laytner himself. He told them about how they'd ended up in NYC, and how they'd figured out about the shapeshifter. Then he explained in less detail about the dog, telling only enough to present his case before moving on to what Sam had discovered last night—a series of mysterious deaths in one of the more questionable areas of the city, deaths that all seemed to be caused by lacerations to the neck.

"Oh, yeah, we've heard about that," Ryo said, quite calmly, all things considered. "The victims all bled out quickly, apparently before they had time to even scream."

Dean nodded at him in acknowledgement, then told them that he and Sam were planning to exterminate the nest before they left town.

By the time he finished, Dean felt that maybe he had accomplished _something_, at any rate. Dee still looked more than a little skeptical, but he wasn't throwing around accusations anymore. And Ryo—Ryo wasn't wearing any expression at all.

"So you came here knowing about all this?" Dee asked.

Dean shrugged. "Sam did some research when we got here, but yeah, more or less."

"And you realize how crazy you sound."

"To people who haven't lived my life, yeah, I guess it does."

Dee looked carefully at them for a long time, then sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Fine. But now we have a problem."

"Of course we have a problem," Dean replied cheerfully. "In fact, I'd say we have a couple of them. Which one are _you_ talking about?"

Dee answered with a question. "How are we gonna tie up loose ends? All of these things you've told us about are cases the NYPD has been working on for weeks and months now, and our officers _really_ don't like unsolved mysteries, especially the kind that involves one of their officers turning up dead and then walking unharmed into the precinct a couple of hours later. Rose is out for blood, and I can't think of a single story he'd believe to get him to drop all these cases. And then there'd be the chief to deal with, and he'd be as difficult as Rose, as impossible as _that_ seems."

Dean very much wanted to tell Dee that this was _his_ problem, and that he'd have to figure it out on his own, but he glanced at Ryo and for some reason found himself making a suggestion. "Can't you claim to have an anonymous source?"

Dee shook his head dismissively. "Not for something this big. He wouldn't accept an anonymous tip to completely drop a series of homicide cases. Hell, he'd probably wring a name out of me for fun. What else ya got?"

"Either frame someone or tell your commissioner the truth and let _him_ deal with it. Those are your only options as far as I can see."

Dee ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Yeah. I know." He turned to Ryo. "So, who should we set up? Hey, how about JJ?"

Ryo rolled his eyes. "Rose is _never_ gonna believe this…" He sighed, checked his watch, and stood up. "Well, anyway, it's getting late and you guys should probably rest. We'll be back tomorrow at ten."

Dean had closed his eyes, but now they snapped open and he sat up. "Huh?"

"Well, obviously you're going to come with us," Ryo said, as if the idea were perfectly reasonable and not absolutely cataclysmic. At Dean's incredulous look, he shrugged. "Hey, _I_ certainly can't tell this well, and he'd just think that Dee's flipped his lid. You guys will have to talk to him."

Dean's mouth still hung open a little, but he couldn't think of a single thing to say, and Ryo seemed to take this as an okay, because he was already opening the door. "Remember, ten o'clock." Then he and Dee were gone, and Dean was alone except for his sleeping brother.

He sat still for a few seconds, then shook his head as if trying to clear it, and murmured, "NYC _sucks_."

XXX

"I don't know if we should leave them, Ryo," Dee murmured as they headed out to the car. "What if they decide to make a break for it?"

"They won't," Ryo said with confidence, and Dee didn't say anything more—sometimes Ryo seemed to just _know_ things like that, and he was usually right.

Instead, he sighed and slid an arm around Ryo's waist, pulling him close and pressing a kiss into his hair, as he had not been permitted to do in the motel room. "I kinda feel sorry for them, though. I feel kinda bad for unleashing Rose on unsuspecting victims…"

* * *

AN: Sorry for the wait, readers! (A.K.A. Raven Black, gddsinferno, Minkster and friendly.) It's been a hectic week and I barely found time today to get this done. Please, please, PLEASE review! 


	5. Chapter 4: Conversations

**Mediaminer/Anonymous Reviewer(s):**

**Raven Black**: Yep, they finally got to meet! And I dunno why, but I've ALWAYS envisioned Dean and Dee hating each other, ever since I first dreamed up this crossover. They're just too much alike. And I'll tell you who you should feel sorry for: NOT ROSE. Don't care who else you feel sorry for, but Rose deserves any bad thing that comes his way. That's all there is to it. Hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

**Calliope Della Corte**: Yep, finally another chapter! In case you can't tell, I take FOREVER to update. I don't like it, but the fact is, I write when I have the inspiration, and if I try to write just for the sake of getting a chapter out I totally suck. Anyways—I know it's kinda funny to picture the last chapter—I had a hard time writing it, believe me, but in the end I think it turned out all right. And about Ryo's acceptance of all this—it's a good thing I got this review, because that actually hadn't occurred to me. I did try to explain it in this chapter, though, after I read the review, so thanks! And…I hope the explanation is acceptable. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

_Previously_:

"_Well, obviously you're going to come with us," Ryo said, as if the idea were perfectly reasonable and not absolutely cataclysmic. At Dean's incredulous look, he shrugged. "Hey, I certainly can't tell this well, and he'd just think that Dee's flipped his lid. You guys will have to talk to him."_

_Dean's mouth still hung open a little, but he couldn't think of a single thing to say, and Ryo seemed to take this as an okay, because he was already opening the door. "Remember, ten o'clock." Then he and Dee were gone, and Dean was alone except for his sleeping brother._

_He sat still for a few seconds, then shook his head as if trying to clear it, and murmured, "NYC sucks."_

_XXX_

"I don't know if we should leave them, Ryo," Dee murmured as they headed out to the car. "What if they decide to make a break for it?"

"_They won't," Ryo said with confidence, and Dee didn't say anything more—sometimes Ryo seemed to just know things like that, and he was usually right._

_Instead, he sighed and slid an arm around Ryo's waist, pulling him close and pressing a kiss into his hair, as he had not been permitted to do in the motel room. "I kinda feel sorry for them, though. I feel kinda bad for unleashing Rose on unsuspecting victims…"_

* * *

Sam's injury didn't change his habits much. He was up and dressed at what Dean considered the obscene hour of seven A.M., and was in the midst of swallowing a couple of the pain pills he usually kept nearby when Dean stumbled out of bed.

The older brother didn't mention the medicine that the younger was using as a "crutch" with more and more alarming frequency these days. He simply fished a bottle of lukewarm water out of his bag and pushed it into Sam's hand—too often the other man just swallowed them dry. Sam muttered his thanks, and Dean turned away without a word.

The motel room was silent as Dean showered and dressed, except for Dean's small shuffles and, occasionally, a muffled curse if something in the bathroom was inconsiderate enough to get in his way. After some mishap, though, he came back into the room looking more alert, if slightly grumpy.

"Wanna go get some breakfast before the cops get here?" Dean asked. "I saw a gas station back down the road a couple miles."

At some point when Dean was in the shower, Sam had dragged out the laptop, and was now browsing, not through research pages, but through e-mails. Dean shook his head in disapproval—he had never liked the idea of Sam keeping in touch with the people at Stanford University; it only seemed to depress him, and Dean _hated_ that. Moreover, he simply didn't _understand_ it. It was unlikely that Sam would ever go back to Stanford, and he knew that, so why did he keep chasing an uncatchable dream?

But then, maybe Sam didn't see it that way, Dean reflected. His brother didn't necessarily think the same way as, quote unquote, "normal people." Maybe in _his_ eyes, Sam was simply trying to hold on to whatever little he had left, after Jessica. Maybe to Sam, it wasn't chasing a dream he couldn't reach, but rather holding onto one he'd already caught—even if it _was_ pointless.

Dean shook his head slightly. In his opinion, his brother was too complicated for his own good.

"I'm not hungry," Sam replied in answer to the question, dragging Dean out of his morose thoughts. "You can go, though."

Dean shrugged. "Nah. I'm not really hungry, either. Just thought I'd ask." With that, he threw himself back onto his bed and fell to contemplating the ceiling, and for a while neither one said anything. After all, Winchesters generally stayed quiet until they had something of value to say.

Of course, it wasn't long before Dean thought of words that he deemed valuable.

"Do you suppose that Dee guy has ever been able to get a girl in his entire life?"

He could practically _hear_ Sam roll his eyes.

"No, seriously. I mean, the guy's got nothing _going_ for him. I bet even if a girl had some sort of aneurysm and actually walked up to him, he'd panic and start screaming for his mommy," Dean scoffed.

"Relax," Sam said calmly, without taking his eyes from the computer screen. "They're no competition."

"As if I was worried! I _know_ I've got ten times the body of that pansy. Never thought you'd finally admit it, though…"

"I'm not admitting anything," Sam replied, deleting an e-mail and opening the next.

"Yes, you are! You said they're no competition—"

"Because they're too busy being in love with each other to even _look_ at anyone else," Sam explained absently, his eyes scanning the e-mail. "Becky and Zack say hi. Have any messages for them?"

"Yeah, tell Becky that if she's changed her mind I'm still available—for a limited time only, of course. So you mean to tell me that those two are--?"

"Gay, yeah. And together—that's important, too," Sam said, now typing Dean's message with a slight smile, though whether it was at Dean's words or his own, or a mixture of the two, it was impossible to say. "So you have nothing to worry about."

Dean sat up suddenly in the bed, looking slightly freaked out. "Dude…I don't even want to _think_ about how you knew that."

He could _see_ Sam roll his eyes this time, though his gaze remained on the screen. "It's plain to anyone willing to look close enough, Dean. It's in their eyes, and in their voices. The way they look at each other, and especially when Dee says Ryo's name—it's there for anyone to see."

"I want you to stop noticing things," Dean grumbled. "You know too much."

"What're you gonna do, have me killed?"

"Maybe."

"Is this bothering you?" Sam asked suddenly, actually turning to Dean for the first time.

"The fact that my little brother always knows absolutely everything? Yeah, it's bugging me a little."

"No. The fact that they're together. I never knew where you stood on that kind of thing."

Dean leaned back against his pillows and stared up at the ceiling. After a moment, he shrugged and said, "I never really thought about it. I don't think I care one way or the other. I mean, seriously, with the stuff _we_ deal with every day, who even _cares_?"

"So…if I told you Beck had a girlfriend, you couldn't care?"

Dean sat up quickly and stared at his brother, who looked absolutely impassive. "You've _gotta_ be kidding me…"

Sam didn't say a word.

"You…_are_ kidding me, aren't you?"

"I could be. But then…maybe I'm not," Sam said, his tone blank and not betraying anything either way.

Dean stared some more. "Sam…_please_ tell me you're joking."

Sam simply shrugged and turned back to his computer, and continued with his e-mails.

"Dammit, Sam!"

XXX

**Meanwhile **

**Dee and Ryo's Apartment**

"HEY, MONKEY! IF YOU'RE NOT DOWN HERE IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS, I'M GONNA BRING YOUR BREAKFAST TO THE PRECINCT AND GIVE IT TO ROSE!"

"DON'T YOU DARE! I'D RATHER _YOU_ EAT IT THAN _HIM_, YOU SKANK!"

"IT'S THREE SECONDS NOW! TWO…ONE…_OW! _GOOD GOD, YOU STUPID APE, IS THAT YOUR SOLUTION TO _EVERYTHING_?"

"Nope, just my solution for anything concerning perverted, lame-brained homos," Bikky said at normal volume, smirking as he watched Dee hop around, clutching at his ankle.

"Morning, Bikky," Ryo said, calmly ignoring the early-morning fight between the two most important people in his universe.

"Morning," Bikky said. "Hurry up, I've gotta meet Carol and she'll _kill_ me if I'm late again…"

"Chick-whipped," Dee inserted, still rubbing at his leg.

"Easily solved," Ryo chuckled, slapping some bacon between two pancakes and handing the concoction over. "Breakfast to go."

"Thanks," Bikky said around a mouthful. "I gotta go. Bye, Ryo. Bye, perv."

"Don't be late," Ryo told him.

"I know."

"Doesn't mean you'll pay attention."

"I know."

"Don't get arrested," Dee told the teen's back.

"Damn, guess that means putting off the beer run down at the salt flats."

"Get outta here, you freak," Dee called as the door shut behind Bikky.

Ryo smirked as he started on his and Dee's food. "Always gotta have the last word, don't you?"

"And since when do you have a problem with that?" Dee asked, and then smiled triumphantly when Ryo blushed slightly and turned back to frying pancakes as if the job was vital to life.

A couple seconds later, he yelped slightly as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back against a strong chest.

"You know, you'd think I'd be used to that by now," he commented idly, without turning.

Dee's chuckle rumbled up through his chest, and Ryo smiled. "I like watching you cook."

"I like you watching me cook," Ryo replied, flipping a pancake.

Dee laughed again, and ran a hand lightly up Ryo's side. "So can I ask you something?" he asked, dropping a kiss on Ryo's shoulder.

"Shoot."

"Why did you accept all this…spirit…stuff…so quickly?"

Ryo didn't answer right away. He reached out slowly and turned off the stove, then began to put the food on plates at the same speed. Dee waited patiently and continued to hold him, and finally Ryo finished his task and replied.

"I don't know. I never would have…before. I'm not even sure how much I believe _now_. But you just don't understand, Dee. I guess I can't…expect you to."

"Well, try and explain it to me, then," Dee urged softly.

Ryo exhaled, a little shakily, and abandoned the thought of food for a moment, leaning back against his partner.

"Dee, I know you. I think I know you better than I know _me_. I know every detail—I'd know your face if we didn't see each other for thirty years and then met in the middle of a crowded street in Sri Lanka. And that man—he looked _exactly_ like you. There wasn't a _single_ difference between your face and his. Not even a pair of 'life's twins' looks that much alike."

He shivered a little, and Dee's armed tightened comfortingly.

"But then…when you came to the precinct, and I saw you…I _knew_. I _knew_ it was you—beyond a shadow of a doubt. And…well, you know the rest," he finished, rather lamely.

Dee nodded absently, running a hand through Ryo's hair.

"I'm still not what you'd call 'a believer'," Ryo went on. "I don't buy the whole vampire thing, for instance. But…I don't know, somehow I'm _sure_ that…that _thing_ at the morgue—it _was_ a shapeshifter. They might be crazy, and then again they might now—but that much was true." He sighed heavily, then half-turned and looked up into Dee's green, green eyes. "So…that's why. That's why I believed it. So can we…stop talking about it now? That was…the worst time of my entire life—no exceptions—and I…I just want to put it behind me, okay?" His voice broke near the end, and he found himself blinking back tears.

Dee smiled, and tilted Ryo's chin up for a kiss. Ryo loosened up slowly as the kiss went on, and by the time Dee pulled away he had finally begun to relax. He sighed, and leaned his head into Dee's chest, just letting Dee hold him.

After a few minutes, though, he regained his practical side and pushed away until their arms were only wrapped loosely around each other, and not crushing each other. "We need to eat…gotta be at the precinct by eight…mmph…" He leaned into the sudden kiss for a moment, and then broke reluctantly away. "Dee…unless you wanna go hungry today, you'd better stop doing that," he murmured, pressing their lips together again.

Finally, though, Dee leaned back with a sigh, running a hand through Ryo's hair one more time. "Fine, let's eat."

Ryo nodded, and was turning to get the plates when Dee pulled him back, planted a quick kiss on him, and leaned close to whisper, "Love you, Ryo."

Ryo smiled. "I love you, too."

"More than the brat?"

Ryo raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, more than anything _except_ the brat?"

Ryo grinned and set the plates on the table so that Dee could kiss him again. "Now, that I'll agree to."

Ryo ended up making their breakfast to go.

XXX

Ryo and Dee showed up at the motel a little before ten. Dean was the one who answered the door, and he glared daggers at Dee, who was standing in front, before stomping back to his bed, once again leaving them in the awkward position of having to invite themselves in.

"Oh, yeah, he and Rose are gonna get along great," Dee muttered, letting Ryo enter first and then following him and closing the door.

Sam, though, seemed to be in a better mood today than he had been last night, though he still seemed a little pale and tired. He smiled a little at them and said, "You're a little early."

"We had a chance to duck out for a little while, so we took it," Ryo explained, smiling warmly at Sam and then at Dean, though the latter was barely acknowledging their existence at the moment. "I hope it's not inconvenient—"

Dean snorted derisively. "_All_ of this is _damned_ inconvenient."

"Yes, I guess it is, from your point of view. I'm sorry," Ryo said sincerely.

Dean looked at him in mild surprise, then grunted and looked away. "So we going or what?"

"Just waiting on you, Princess," Dee said acidly before Ryo could reply in his smooth, quiet way.

Sam chuckled, then fell silent instantly when Dean scowled at him. Then the older brother was getting up off the bed and murmuring, "I'll get my keys."

"Wait—you want us to let you drive _yourself_?" Dee asked, not even sure why he cared.

"Hey—it's bad enough that I have to do this at all. I'm not getting hauled in in the back of a cop car," Dean snapped, pulling his keys out of his bag.

Dee shrugged. "Whatever, man. Let's just get this over with."

"Hey, this wasn't even _my_ idea," Dean snapped, not even noticing as Ryo went over to sit down next to Sam. "If you don't wanna do it, then stop being all Nazi and _leave us alone_."

"Hey, which one of us has the badge here? I don't like dealing with you any more than I like dealing with rattlesnakes, but it's my _job_."

"Well, quit," Dean said dismissively, turning back to his bag. "Not like this town needs another half-assed cop, anyway."

Dee flushed red. "Why, you—"

"Ya know," Sam said quietly to Ryo as the other two continued to shout at each other, "I always wondered what would happen if Dean met himself."

Ryo looked thoughtfully at the two men. "Think the world'll implode?"

XXX

"So this is the NYPD, huh?" Sam said, his voice carefully neutral as his gaze ran over the building.

"I know, it's not too great to look at," Ryo said with a sigh. "And this is our relatively _new_ building. The old one didn't even really need the help of the fire to fall down."

"It's not _that_ bad," Sam said, shouldering open the door and waiting for the group to step through.

"Thanks for saying so, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if the entire thing flew apart at the first breeze," Ryo said with a chuckle, already headed toward a hallway. "Think Rose is still in his office?" he asked, speaking to Dee now.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think the bastard ever does _anything_. Why would he be away from his desk?"

Ryo chuckled softly, and was about to reply when a loud, screeching voice reverberated through the hall, startling the few people in the vicinity.

"DEE-SENPAI!"

Dee's expression changed to one of wide-eyed horror, and he looked around frantically, then reached for the nearest person—who just _happened_ to be Dean—and yanked him forward, ducking behind him and jumping back at the same time.

What happened next happened too quickly for Sam's eyes, but it all ended a few seconds later with Dean on the floor, arms and legs entangled with those of another person, both of them struggling for freedom.

"ACK! WHAT THE _HELL_!

"THAT'S SO MEAN, MR. SEXY! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS RUN AWAY LIKE THAT?"

"GET _OFF_ ME! WHAT THE HELL _ARE _YOU, ANYWAY?"

"DEEEE! COME HERE, STUD!"

"ARE YOU _INSANE_? I'M NOT COMING ANYWHERE _NEAR_ YOU!"

"IS ANYONE PAYING ATTENTION TO THE FACT THAT I'VE BEEN DIVE-BOMBED BY AN UNIDENTIFIABLE _THING_?"

"I'M _NOT_ A THING!"

"HEEELP! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, YOU INSUFFERABLE BASTARD!"

And then a strange sound reached Dean's ears, and he stopped struggling to try and identify it. It was loud, and explosive, and familiar though he hadn't heard it in a long time, and it made him want to smile even while he was pinned by…whatever this thing was. It was freakin' _infectious_.

Sam was laughing.

Now, it wasn't like Sam never laughed. He did, sometimes. But usually it was just a soft chuckle, or, most common, a wide grin and nothing more. There had been precious little to laugh at in his life, and even less since Jessica, but now—now he was practically doubled up, screeching with mirth as he watched his brother, trying in vain to free himself.

By the time Dean regained his wits, the other—person?—had finally scrambled off of him, and as Dean got up slowly, it turned to face Dee and pouted. "You're so mean, Senpai. Why do you always throw people at me?"

Dee shrugged nonchalantly. "Defense mechanism."

"For God's sake, Sam, will you stop _laughing_?" Dean snapped, glaring until Sam's shouts of mirth died to chuckles. Then he turned to the thing that he felt had very nearly killed him.

He _thought_ it was a man, but he couldn't be absolutely certain. _For the sake of argument, though, I'll say it's a guy…_ He was fairly tall, but his boyish face and wide innocent eyes made him seem somehow smaller, and the fact that he was thin as a rail didn't help any. His voice, oddly enough, didn't give anything away—it was neither high like a girl's or low like a guy's, but something exactly in between. And most annoying of all—was his hair. Dean could not, for the life of him, figure out what _color_ it was. At first, it seemed like a faded blue color. Then it looked like there was purple mixed in with the blue. _Then_ Dean thought it must be a weird gray color. And finally, he decided that it wasn't any of those, but rather a mix of them that formed an entirely new color.

How does anyone work around this guy without trying to kill him and then themselves in a bizarre murder-suicide pact?

Sam came up behind him then, and Dean found himself leaning over and whispering in a perfectly audible tone, "What do you think it _is_?"

Sam hit him.

"I'm sorry about him—" the younger Winchester began, but he was cut off when the odd man waved a hand dismissively.

"Don't worry, I'm used to it. Dee-senpai acts exactly the same way. _I_ think it's just how he shoes his love for me." Then he rubbed his neck and winced, ignoring Dee's glare. "I do wish he'd stop throwing people at me, though."

"Maybe if you'd stop trying to _kill_ me I wouldn't have to use human shields," Dee muttered.

The man smiled winningly. "I'm _not_ trying to kill you, Mr. Wonderful! I'm just trying to show my love!" Then he quite suddenly turned away from Dee and said cheerily, "Good morning, Ryo!"

"Good morning," Ryo said politely. He was about to say something else when the man turned to Dean and Sam and held out his hand.

"I'm Jemmy J Adams," he said, as cheerily as he seemed to say everything. "You can call me JJ." He shook Sam's hand, and Dean allowed him to shake his own reluctantly. JJ laughed. "I'm really sorry about tackling you—I swear I would have stopped if I could. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, as if I could." But despite his short temper today and his annoyance at being dive-bombed, he found himself grudgingly liking this man.

"So where you all headed, anyway?" JJ asked, addressing the group at large.

"We're going to see the Commissioner," Ryo explained. "These two need to talk to him."

"Ooh, are you FBI?" JJ asked with a grin. "_Please_ tell me you're here because Rose finally got in trouble."

"'Fraid not," Dee said. "They just have to talk to him."

"Oh. Well, I'll go with you," JJ said happily. "I have some reports to drop off—"

"Uh…well…" Ryo said reluctantly. "I'm sorry, JJ, but….it's…it's kind of…private…"

JJ pouted. "Aw, you're keeping secrets from me? That's mean…" His grin was so sudden it was almost alarming, and he laughed. "Well, then tell Rose he'll just have to walk down to forensics to get his own lab results. He _hates_ doing that…"

Dee grinned. "Oh, I'll tell him."

Ryo rolled his eyes. "I swear, you two are twelve. Can we just go?"

"Oh…wait a sec, before I forget," JJ said suddenly, as they began to turn away. "Maria called for you earlier. She's mad that you haven't come since…well, you know since what. Anyway, she wants you to go for dinner tonight, and I don't think you have much of a choice."

JJ made it sound like some kind of curse, and Dean was surprised when Dee smiled happily, though his voice was quite normal when he replied. "Okay. Thanks, JJ."

JJ beamed. "You're welcome, Sexy!" Then he planted a kiss on Dee's cheek, and bounced off before Dee could smack him.

"Uh…does he ever…walk anywhere?" Sam asked.

Dee shrugged. "If he has, I've never seen it."

"Well, I'm glad she called, anyway," Ryo said. "Bikky has a new friend over there—he came a few weeks ago with his little sister. Kid named Morgan."

Dean's step faltered slightly, and he had to fight to hide his surprise. _It can't be…it can't be, can it?_

He glanced at Sam, and knew instantly that his brother was wondering the same thing.

XXX

Dee looked like he was headed for the guillotine knocked on the door that read "Commissioner Berkley Rose" in bold black lettering. Ryo looked amused, but he his it whenever Dee glanced at him. Once again, Sam wondered what he and Dean had gotten themselves into.

"What do you want, Laytner?" an irritated voice asked from within.

Dee seemed to take this as an invitation, and he shoved open the door and strode inside as if he owned the place. "Why, Rose, it's great to see you, too. I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Rose didn't sigh, didn't roll his eyes, didn't show a single sign of exaggeration. In fact, he turned away as if Dee had ceased to exist, and addressed Ryo instead.

"Hello, Ryo," he said warmly, and the look in his eyes made Sam a little uneasy. "Did you take care of what you left to do?"

"Yes, sir," Ryo said politely—a little _too_ politely, Sam thought. "Actually, that's what brings us here. I'd like you to meet Dean and Sam—" He paused for a moment, before apparently remembering that he didn't have a last name to give. "They have something important to talk to you about."

"Concerning?" Rose asked, his tone all business now.

"Some of the mysterious deaths that have been happening. They think you should stop investigating them," Ryo said, laying all their cards on the table in one bold throw.

The Commissioner didn't say anything for a long time. He took off his glasses, wiped them slowly, and put them back on. Then he began to fiddle with the papers on his desk, arranging them meticulously even though Sam couldn't see _how_ they could possibly be organized further. Once he was done with that, he sat back in his chair and just _stared_ at them, with a cold, piercing gaze that made Sam's skin crawl as with a hundred centipedes.

He looked, and looked, and _looked_, until Sam had to fight the urge to crawl under something and hide until it was over. When his father had looked at _him_ like that, it had always been a sure sign that he was in for a dressing-down, and déjà vu sent a shiver down his spine. He'd always _hated_ when John Winchester gave him that look. But somehow…somehow this guy was even _worse_. His gaze had no expression—no anger, no puzzlement, not even irritation. It was _creepy_, and Sam felt a thrill of something that was not fear, but something akin to it.

And then Rose spoke, in a flat, bored voice that proved worse than the silence.

"Would they care to explain why?"

Ryo grimaced slightly. "Yeah, that's why we brought them here, but…well, it's a good thing you're sitting down, sir, because there's no way in hell you're gonna believe this…"

XXX

Rose's expression didn't so much as flicker the entire time Dean and Sam told their story. Not a single thing they said seemed to rattle him. He didn't ask any questions or make any comments—he just listened.

When Sam—who took over the telling in the middle—stopped talking, Rose leaned back in his chair, and did the staring thing again. Sam stared back, waiting for the smart-aleck comment he was more-than-half-expecting from Dean. But it never came, and the silence went on.

Then, finally, Rose spoke, and his voice was the same as before.

"Would you boys excuse us?"

It was clearly not a question, and even Dean saw that it was best not to argue. In fact, he was the first to head for the door, Sam trailing along behind.

The brothers didn't speak until they were seated on the bench outside Rose's office. Then Dean drew in a shaking breath and said, "Wow."

"Yeah," Sam said. "Suddenly, Dad seems _way_ less creepy."

"Uh-huh. What is _with_ that guy?"

"He's jealous of Dee," Sam said instantly.

Dean threw up his hands in disgust. "There you go again. I would _love_ to know why."

Sam shrugged—_he_ thought it was fairly obvious. "He wants Ryo and can't have him, so he hates Dee."

"Oh, good God! Is there a single straight person in this precinct?!"

"Nope," a guy walking by with a stack of papers replied calmly, but he didn't give them a chance to reply before he disappeared around the corner.

Dean watched him go, then leaned over and said in a low voice, "We have to leave this place immediately."

Sam looked puzzled. "Uh…why?"

"Because everybody's clearly insane and I've seen Dad as a cop, which I never needed to see. We have to _go_, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We _can't_, Dean. Unless you _want_ to get slapped with quite a few messy charges. And they know where we're staying."

Dean sighed heavily. "Damn."

XXX

"You've brought insane men into my precinct."

Rose's tone was completely calm, but his message was clear.

_I'm beginning to think _you're _insane…_

"Why, exactly, did you bother bringing them? Why not just arrest them?"

_You'd better have a _damn_ good explanation for this…_

"I mean, you can't possibly _believe_ them, so…"

_At least, I _hope_ you don't believe them, because then I'd have to fire you for the good of all concerned…_

But then Rose took a good look, and sighed heavily. "Great. You believe them." And then he turned to Dee. "Laytner, why am I even surprised that you _bought_ a story like this?"

Dee flushed a brilliant, angry red, and was opening his mouth for a furious retort when Ryo said quietly, "He didn't. I did."

There was a long silence, and something actually shoed on Rose's face—concern.

"Do you want to tell me why?"

He spoke gently, softly, like someone at the bedside of a very ill man, and Dee ground his teeth in annoyance.

But though Ryo must have noticed the tone, he remained calm. "No, I don't."

"But you do believe them."

"I do."

"And you don't think that they may have had something to do with it all."

"No, I don't."

"And you agree that further investigation is useless."

"Yes."

"And what, exactly, do you suggest I tell the IA and my officers?"

"I was hoping you could help with that."

Rose sighed heavily, and thought for a bit, leaning forward in his chair and resting his arms on his desk. "I don't buy it," he said at last. "But—I'll make you a deal, Ryo. I'm going to keep trying to find possibilities. Otherwise, I'm looking at some serious trouble with the higher powers. But in a month's time, if there haven't been any more murders, I'll begin the process to drop the cases your…friends…covered."

Ryo smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"Well, it's a one-time only offer. Next time you bring someone in with a story about demons and spirits on killing sprees, I'll personally arrest them, fire Laytner, and restrict you to desk duty for sake of your sanity."

"Hey, why do I get fired and _he_ gets desk duty?" Dee asked, looking highly offended.

Rose looked impassively at him. "Do you really want to know?"

"Why, you low—"

"Okay!" Ryo said a little too brightly. "We're done here, I guess. Thanks again, Commissioner, sir. Come on, Dee—"

"Hold on."

Ryo froze in the middle of leading Dee toward the door.

"You wouldn't happen to know if those two boys are planning to…uh…what did they call it? Oh, yes…_hunting_. You wouldn't happen to know if they plan to hunt anytime soon, would you?"

"Commissioner, they don't exactly trust us, you know," Ryo replied, neatly dodging the question.

"Mm-hmm…well, you realize that you'd be legally obligated to turn them in if you caught them breaking any laws—say, vigilante laws, for instance. Don't you?"

Ryo's heart fell—his scrupulously honest nature wouldn't allow him to dodge _that_ bullet. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Ryo?"

Ryo froze with his hand on the knob, trying not to wince. "Yes, sir?"

"I'm supposed to be in meetings all day, so don't even bother trying to contact me after you finish your shift."

Ryo looked at him for a long moment, then smiled gratefully and said, "Yes, sir."

Dee continued to grind his teeth.

* * *

AN: Okay, so it was another chapter made up mostly of dialogue. I'm sorry if that bores people, but by the time all the talking was finished the chapter was thirteen pages long and there was no time for action.

Anyways, I'm sorry for once again taking so long. It took me forever to get this chapter started—I just couldn't figure out _how_—but once I finally _started_ it, about four days ago—well, after that horrible first line, the thing pretty much wrote itself. I very rarely am able to say that about my stories, so I'm glad I can right now. The hardest part was definitely typing it—I did it all in one straight shot—used up my entire post-Supernatural adrenaline rush AND about a pint of caffeine to get the job done. I just hope it reads as well as it wrote…


	6. Chapter 5: Troubles

**Anonymous/Mediaminer Reviewer(s):**

**Raven Black**: Thanks, as always, for your review! Y'know, it's kinda funny—I noticed in reading your review that you mentioned all of my favorite parts. I laughed so hard when JJ and Dean collided…but I'm not sure if it came across that I love and adore JJ above all things…I hope it did, because it's true, but now that I look back I might have made him more annoying than anything. Oh, I hope not…he's my favorite…but whatever, you didn't come here to listen to me whine! I'll let you read the chapter now…

* * *

_Previously_:

"_You wouldn't happen to know if those two boys are planning to…uh…what did they call it? Oh, yes…hunting. You wouldn't happen to know if they plan to hunt anytime soon, would you?"_

"_Commissioner, they don't exactly trust us, you know," Ryo replied, neatly dodging the question._

"_Mm-hmm…well, you realize that you'd be legally obligated to turn them in if you caught them breaking any laws—say, vigilante laws, for instance. Don't you?"_

_Ryo's heart fell—his scrupulously honest nature wouldn't allow him to dodge that bullet. "Yes, sir."_

"_Oh, and Ryo?"_

_Ryo froze with his hand on the knob, trying not to wince. "Yes, sir?"_

"_I'm supposed to be in meetings all day, so don't even bother trying to contact me after you finish your shift."_

_Ryo looked at him for a long moment, then smiled gratefully and said, "Yes, sir."_

* * *

"Ah, sweet freedom…" Dean breathed as they stepped back through the doors of the 27th precinct and stepped out into the day, and stopped, clustered together by the door.

"I know," Dee said, not even noticing who he was agreeing with. "Being around him is exhausting."

"And _creepy._ You didn't mention how _creepy_ he is. That staring thing he does…"

"Try being holed up with him in a meeting room for hours on end, watching him go after your man and not being able to do a thing about it—"

"_Dee_!" Ryo said sharply, causing Dee to start and look at him guiltily. Dean and Sam looked, too, and Ryo began to blush. It started out as a pale pink tinge, but it darkened the longer they looked, until he was flushing scarlet. "Oh…I…uh…I…" he stammered, searching for something to say and failing miserably. The look he leveled at Dee very clearly promised a whole host of interesting tortures, followed by a very violent death, as soon as they got away.

But Dee simply smiled at him—not mockingly, but he certainly didn't regret what he'd said.

Ryo may very well have died of embarrassment right on that very spot outside the 27th precinct, if Sam hadn't been the only one to take pity on him, and change the subject.

"So tell me something," he said, making it sound like he was talking to both the cops but directing his request mostly toward poor Ryo.

"If I can," Ryo said gratefully.

"Who's Maria, and why is she mad at you, Dee?"

Dee grinned widely, and abandoned teasing his love in order to latch onto the new subject. "Sister Maria Lane—she's a nun at a church near here. She runs an orphanage there. Well, it's not _strictly_ an orphanage—it's more a place for kids who have nowhere else to go. Whether or not they have parents has nothing to do with it. She'll shelter anyone with half a reason to be away from home." He positively beamed with pride, and it was perfectly obvious what he thought of the nun.

"How did you meet her?" Sam asked, absently scratching at his injured wrist.

"Don't do that, Sammy, you'll make it worse."

Sam sighed and dropped his hand, still looking at Dee.

"I grew up at the church," the black-haired man explained. "Maria is…my mother, for all intents and purposes." That he had just let slip the fact that he was an orphan didn't seem to bother Dee in the slightest—in fact, Sam got the feeling that he didn't particularly want it mentioned at all. "Oh, she's the best woman alive—but scar-r-ry. And I just realized when JJ mentioned it that I haven't been there since the disaster with the—the shapeshifter thing. I mean, Ryo called to let her know I was alive, but I haven't gone over there yet. Oh, she's gonna be on the warpath tonight…"

He looked positively delighted by the idea.

"Bikky will want to come too," Ryo said. "We'll have to call to ask if Mother minds."

"Is Bikky your kid?" Sam asked.

"My adopted son," Ryo replied, and now it was his turn to grin with pride.

"Oh, that's cool! How old is he?"

"Fifteen."

"And the bane of my existence," Dee muttered. "Little brat."

"If you can't tell, he loves the boy more than just about anything," Ryo said, smiling.

Dee glared at him. "Payback?"

"Yep. Hell, isn't it?"

"Uh…Ryo?" Dean spoke up, startling them all—he'd been unusually quiet since the conversation started.

"Hmm?" Ryo replied, turning his attention to the older Winchester.

"Uh…when you…call this nun, could you…um…?" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Could I…?" Ryo asked in polite puzzlement.

Dean took a deep breath. "Could you ask if me and Sam could come?" he asked quickly, as if trying to get something acutely painful out of the way quickly.

It was hard to say who was more surprised—Ryo, at being asked such a polite question by the man who had done nothing but bite his and Dee's heads off since they'd met, Dee, at the idea that Dean had any interest at all in orphan kids, or Sam, at the fact that Dean had actually made up his mind to ask at all.

"Oh…well, sure. I'm sure she won't mind, but…uh…well, why?" Ryo asked carefully.

Dean shrugged, but didn't say anything except, "Thanks."

Ryo still looked puzzled, but he didn't ask again. Sam, though, thought he had a pretty good idea of why…

"Ryo, Dee, there you are! What are you doing out here?"

Dee closed his eyes slowly, and opened them again, before turning to face the man who had just poked his head through the doors—the same random guy who had walked past Dean and Sam in the precinct.

"We're tap dancing."

"Who're they?" the man asked, eyeing Dean and Sam.

"Assassins we hired to take Rose down. What do you want, Drake?"

"Chief's looking for you," the guy replied. "He's ticked." Then he disappeared back inside.

Dee groaned theatrically. "Well, _obviously_ he's ticked…must be Tuesday…"

"Well, we _were_ supposed to be back on the clock ten minutes ago," Ryo reminded him. Then he turned to Sam and Dean. "We get off shift at three. I'll call Mother then. Uh…how should I contact you to let you know--?"

"I could put my number in your phone, if you want," Sam offered, and Ryo grinned and surrendered his cell.

"So…uh…what do you guys plan to do now?" Ryo asked as Sam fiddled with his phone.

"You know exactly what we plan to do now, and you know where we're going, and there's nothing you can do about it, so get over it," Dean snapped, his eyes daring them—especially Dee—to say anything about it. "Weren't you guys supposed to be getting reamed right about now?" he asked pointedly, neatly ending the conversation in a style that was uniquely…_Dean_.

XXX

**Meanwhile**

**Some Random Apartment**

"Hunters are such idiots," Judas scoffed in delight, downing a shot of whiskey while he watched his family put the finishing touches on their little joke.

Lilah smiled her cold smile and came to wrap herself around him, coaxing the bottle out of his hand and taking a swig. "I love when you find these things out. It makes everything so much fun."

Inwardly, he smiled at her praise, but outwardly, he remained modest and serious. "It's just lucky that the sings were so obvious—otherwise we may have been caught in an ambush."

Jude's brother, Brutus, the only other one in the room, stepped back to examine his handiwork, and smiled in satisfaction.

"How do you know they'll be there, though?" he asked, taking his turn with the whiskey bottle. None of them had any use for the stuff, but that didn't mean they didn't _like_ it.

Jude shrugged. "A simple understanding of the human condition. We haven't exactly been subtle—we never had any reason to be—and they must have picked up our trail by now."

"You don't sound too unhappy about that," Brutus observed noncommittally.

"Why would I be? There are only two of them, and they're both vulnerable. It doesn't matter to me if they find us."

"Do you remember the days when we cared what they thought?" Lilah asked, her teeth grazing his shoulder.

He let a small sound emerge as she flicked her tongue over the mark, lapping up the blood. "I do, a little," he replied distantly, quite a bit more than half his mind focused on what she was doing. "I would have been so ashamed to let them see what I do for food, back then." He chuckled. "But that was because I didn't know my power then."

"Like Lestat," Brutus offered, and Jude allowed another short laugh.

"Yes. Exactly like Lestat." Then Lilah moved away with one last lick, and he suppressed a disappointed sigh and got back to business. "It's all ready, Brother?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Brutus answered anyway. "Now all we have to do is wait for them to show up." He sounded as if he wasn't looking forward to it—Brutus had never been great with waiting.

Jude nodded, and spoke with the absolute certainty of one who has lived long and seen all. "Don't worry. It won't be long."

XXX

"That's it," Sam said with certainty, pointing toward the large building across the street as the Impala crawled along. "That's where they stay."

Dean looked at him for a long moment, stopping the car as he did so. "Y'know, Sammy, it's about time you stopped getting new abilities. I'm almost sure we talked about that…didn't we?"

"Uh…sure," Sam said vaguely, trying not to look like he was hurrying as he climbed out of the car. Luckily, Dean didn't press the issue, instead getting out and going to the trunk in silence. "So what's the plan?" he asked, a little cautiously, lest he rouse Dean's questions again.

Dean shrugged. "Get crossbows. Bust in there. Crush, kill, destroy. You know the drill, Sammy."

"And if there are more than we can handle?"

Dean scoffed. "When have there ever been more than we could handle?"

Sam shrugged, trying not to take offense at the tone. "I just thought…in case."

Dean matched Sam's gesture, and sighed. "If we get in over our heads, we bail and come back with more ammo. Simple as that. Now let's—"

And then a car rounded the corner.

"—Go. Damn it!" the older Winchester swore. "What are they _doing_ here? What the hell are you _doing_ here?" he repeated, the second Dee and Ryo emerged from the car.

Dee smiled charmingly. "Checking out the scenery. It's not bad, as far as falling-down buildings go."

Ryo shook his head. "Dee." Then he bestowed his own smile on the Winchesters. "The truth is, we're supposed to be at lunch, but…well, we wanted to come see this for ourselves."

Dean groaned. "That _better _not mean what I think it means—"

"We're going in with you."

"Of _course_ you are." Dean sighed heavily, then ducked into the trunk and pulled out two crossbows, handing one to Sam and keeping the other for himself. Then he pulled out a jar of thick red-black liquid, and he and Sam took turns dipping their bolts into it. All this they did in silence, ignoring the bemused looks Dee and Ryo gave them. Finally, though, Sam took pity on them.

"Dead man's blood," he explained, as calmly as if he were explaining that the sky is blue. "It's poisonous to vampires. You immobilize them with a well-placed shot, and then you use one of _these—_" He pulled one of the machetes out of the trunk and held it up. "—To take off their heads. Simple as that."

Dee looked as if he was seriously questioning the idea of going into the building. "That…is _anything_ but simple…"

Ryo, though, just shrugged. "I assume you're both experienced at this. You certainly _sound_ experienced at this…"

Dean shrugged. "Pretty unavoidable in our family."

"So…while you two are going all Buffy, what are _we_ supposed to do?" Dee asked.

"Well, first of all you're gonna stop referring to us as 'Buffy.' I have nowhere _near_ that many curves…" Dean seemed to space out for a moment, then suddenly snapped to as if he'd only just remembered the subject. "And then you're gonna stay outta the way and let us work. And if you get to the point where you absolutely _have_ to scream like some kind of damsel in distress…take it outside, okay?"

And then he was off, before Dee had any time to screech at him, though the black-haired man was right on his heels. Sam and Ryo spent a long moment staring after them, and so were a few yards behind when the other two reached the building.

Perhaps that was lucky—although if you asked Sam and Ryo later, they would _certainly_ deny it—because they were still a couple yards from the entrance when Dee and Dean went in.

And then Sam's world went white, and he was lying senseless on the ground by the time the sound of the explosion split the silence.

* * *

AN: Okay, I know it's a short chapter, but many sensible people have told me time and time again not to worry so much about the length of the chapter, and to just stop when it feels right. And it felt right then, so I stopped. Don't let that keep you from reviewing, though!!! 


	7. Chapter 6: Luck of the Devil

**Anonymous/MediaMiner Reviewer(s):**

**Raven Black**: Thanks, as always, for taking the time to review! I dunno why I had Dean call them Buffy…but I did mean it as an insult, because Buffy's stupid and I hate her. But that in no way reflects _my_ feelings about our beloved NYPD cops—just Dean's… However, anytime I insult Rose, it _does_ reflect my feelings. So remember that. Old rat bastard…Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't worry about the not-reviewing. But what did you mean by the baby comment…? Just…kinda curious…

* * *

Judas, Brutus, and Lilah truly didn't have to wait for long before the hunters showed up, but it _seemed_ like quite a time, mainly because of Brutus's complaints that this was boring and how much longer would they have to wait?

But Jude forced his annoyance down, reminding himself that though Brutus was his brother, and had already outlived their parents, in so many ways he was still young—and would be forever. A tragic, but not unheard of, side-effect of being turned—some simply couldn't handle the experience. Brutus had been one of those. He'd survived it, but his mind, while coherent, did not age past fifteen, which was how old he'd been when Jude turned him, to save him from the illness threatening his life—

Jude pulled himself from the memories with an ironic inner-chuckle. Strange, how the memories could still twinge after all this time. Oh, it was such a _mistake_ to say that vampires had no desires beyond the pleasures of the flesh, no feelings beyond those of anger and evil…

"God, Jude, this is taking forever…"

Then again, though he _did_ try to have patience with his brother, at the moment all Jude wanted was to tumble into bed with Lilah and sleep until nightfall, and instead he was forced to leave their home and take care of those fool hunters. And he was hungry, and already beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey he'd never quite built up an immunity to, even after all these years. And looking at Lilah was making his cold blood surge, and he couldn't _do_ anything about it…

In short, he was losing his carefully reined-in temper.

But luckily, before he could open his mouth and say something he would regret later, Lilah looked over at the two of them from her vigil at the window and said, "They're coming."

In seconds, Jude was at her side, looking out the window at the car inching down the street. Behind him, he sensed it as Brutus stood up.

"Not yet, Brute. Not until I say."

"I know."

Jude watched as the car stopped, and the two young men got out. They conversed for a moment, and then turned to the building that they _somehow_ knew was the vampires' home…

It was a bit surprising when the two cops showed up, but it was nothing that couldn't be dealt with. Just as long as they…

"Wait, Brute."

"I _know_, Jude!"

Jude, Lilah, and Brutus watched as the foursome argued, watched as the taller hunter explained things, watched as the shorter hunter took off for the home Jude was about to lose, followed by the black-haired cop…

Have to wait until they're all inside… 

The cop entered the building…

The other two were a few yards away…

And Brutus got impatient, as teenagers are wont to do, and pressed the button early.

XXX

"Sam…"

The voice faded in and out, and Sam thought vaguely that there must be something wrong with his ears. They kept making an irritating noise, for some reason—like ringing, but muted to more of a buzz. His head felt all floaty…and his arm _hurt_.

"_Sam._"

And the voice…that was gonna get annoying soon…

"SAM!"

A pair of hands grabbed at the collar of his jacket and _shook_, and Sam snapped to awareness and pushed himself up on his elbows.

"You all right?" Ryo asked, putting an arm around him and helping him sit up.

"Uh…yeah…" Sam said slowly, his eyes on Ryo, taking in the details. The other man was so pale he had almost no color, and his face was smudged and dirty. And his eyes…his eyes were red and puffy, as if he'd been crying…

Sam began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What happened?" he asked, not sure he really wanted to know.

"T-there was an explosion…" Ryo said. His voice shook, and Sam's feeling of something _wrong_ intensified. "I don't know how, but…but…"

Sam's head still wasn't exactly clear. Ryo's words kept slipping away, and took a long time to process. The quake in his words didn't help, either. But even so, he felt a deep pang of alarm at the word "explosion" and after a moment, he understood why.

"Where are Dean and Dee?" he asked slowly, his tongue seeming too thick to form words.

Ryo physically trembled—Sam felt it in the arm still supporting him—and his voice was nearly too soft to hear. "T-they were inside when it happened, Sam…"

He didn't sound as if he believed his own words—and Sam _would not_ believe them, either. Ryo was wrong—_Ryo was wrong_, and that was all there was to it. This was the thought stubbornly sticking to Sam's fuzzy mind as he began to scramble to his feet—the _only_ thought that was sticking right now. _Ryo was wrong…_

Ryo didn't try to stop him, and that was enough to say very clearly that part of him, at least, agreed with Sam's assumption. Part of him still hoped, against all hope, that the explosion wasn't nearly as serious as it looked…

Sam was relatively steady on his feet by the time he reached the blasted bits of what had been the door, and he charged in with admirable speed, given all of the hazards littering the ground.

The inside of the place was a mess, of course—boards, pieces of wall, and other remains were _everywhere—_and there was no sign of anyone standing. But there also wasn't anything—else—that told of anyone else having been caught in the explosion, and that alone kept Sam together. By the time Ryo joined him, he was digging through the rubble, throwing aside anything that didn't shift to reveal his brother like some kind of madman, not noticing that he was chanting Dean's name with every breath, almost too softly to hear. Objects that should have been impossible to budge moved easily under his hand and he didn't notice that either, just kept looking, looking, looking…

Ryo joined him after a moment of staring around, white-faced and tight-lipped, and the two of them worked without speaking, meaning that the only sounds were Sam's soft chanting and the scrape and creak of heavy objects on concrete.

Which was probably why both of them picked up the sound the second it came.

It was not a _loud_ sound. Actually, it was barely there at all, and probably would have been indistinguishable if the two of them hadn't been so keyed up. As it was, though, Sam picked up the noise easily—a quiet shuffle, and then a very soft groan. In an identical movement that would have been comical under any other circumstances, Sam and Ryo turned to look at the source of the noise—a pile of cracked and broken wood and plaster and cement on the other side of the room that they hadn't gotten to yet.

They were still staring at the pile when it moved, and then _burst_, revealing the stocky form of a man struggling to rise.

A split second later, a raspy, unusually quiet voice echoed through the silent room. "NYC _sucks_!"

Sam had become almost completely steady during the search. The dizziness had faded and his confusion was ebbing, and though the ringing in his ears wouldn't seem to just go _away_, he had thought he was fine.

But when he saw Dean moving, and heard him speak, Sam's knees began to buckle, and he had to lean against the nearest wall to stay standing. His throat closed up slowly, and he could only watch Ryo fly across the room to join his brother. He couldn't hear what they were saying above the sudden roaring in his mind, and slowly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting, trying to get himself back under control before Dean saw him.

He was still in the exact same position five minutes later, when a hand touched his shoulder gently. He started, and lifted his head from his knees to see Ryo once again looking down at him in concern.

"I managed to get them to stay sitting," Ryo said to him, sounding remarkably calm considering the situation, though he looked a little pale still. "They're shell-shocked—moving might not be a good idea. I called an ambulance. Your brother has one scary glare, but I did it anyway, and one will be here soon. You okay?"

The last part was said in the same calm, professional way as the rest of it, and it took a moment for Sam to process the question. And even after he understood it, he had to wait a moment for a reply to come to him.

"I-I don't know…I don't _feel_…hurt…but I feel…weird…"

Ryo smiled gently. "You were a lot closer to the explosion than I was—it tossed you a good distance. I'm surprised your as coherent as you are."

"Back at you. Seriously, men, does _anything_ shake you?"

Ryo shrugged. "I'm a sharpshooter. If I let something shake me, someone could die. But what I _show_ is no reflection on how I _feel_…" He was about to say more when Dean's voice cut through the relative quiet of the room.

"Hey, Sammy, get your ass over here or we're gonna have a problem."

Ryo looked thoughtful. "You think he's mad?"

"_Right now, _Sam."

Sam felt a slow grin tug at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, yeah. He's mad."

XXX

"Dammit, Brutus!"

It was not Jude who uttered the epithet, but Lilah. She descended on Brutus like the locusts upon Egypt, while Jude watched with no expression at all.

"You _idiot_! Do you have _any_ idea what you just _did_?"

Brutus looked sullenly at her, and didn't answer.

"You killed one of the brothers, and left the other alive! You killed a _hunter_, and let his fellow hunter live! He will want _revenge! _You may have just signed our _death_ warrant, you _stupid_ little _bastard_!"

"That's enough, Lilah," Jude said, his voice soft and cold, cutting through the one-sided argument.

Lilah subsided at the command, and for a while the silence spiraled on with none of them looking at each other. Then, finally, Brutus spoke up in a small voice.

"I'm sorry, Jude."

Jude turned his gaze on his brother, and Brutus shrank away, looking—not afraid, by any means, but certainly as if he was regretting ever setting up the bomb in the first place. And from the way he kept looking at Lilah, he did _not_ appreciate her lecture. But then, what fifteen-year-old boy _wants_ to be lectured by his older brother's mate?

Jude sighed. "I know you are. And we can deal with this—it's just a matter of choosing the right moment—"

"_Jude."_

Jude turned quickly at the word—he was not accustomed to hearing Lilah surprised. She was looking out the window again, and he went to join her, looking out over her shoulder at the ambulance that was coming to a stop outside the wreckage that had once been their home.

"Well…" he said slowly, as the meaning of it came to him. "I'll be damned."

XXX

The ambulance was far too crowded with both Dee and Dean riding in it—particularly since the latter was rather perturbed, and Sam had always sworn that when Dean was angry, he actually grew. Besides, there _was_ the matter of the cars, and Dean would _not_ tolerate the Impala being left behind. The problem was, Ryo was flatly refusing to leave Dee's side again—Dee, though conscious, seemed dazed and unfocused, and he was still barely responding to the activities around him, and Ryo was obviously more worried than he let on.

They solved the dilemma efficiently, however. In the end, Ryo crammed himself into the vehicle, after calling the precinct and reporting the incident, and arranging for a team to come and tie up the loose ends, and Sam remained reluctantly behind to drive Dean's car.

None of the group saw the three faces peering out from the window across the street as they left.

XXX

Sam never did understand exactly why doctors took so long to do their jobs. They were supposedly _trained_ for all possible speed—they had to be, if they were going to respond efficiently to emergencies. But in all his dealings with catastrophes, the only truly fast workers Sam had seen were the EMTs that showed up on scene. It seemed that once a patient actually got inside the building alive, things were allowed to slow down.

It had always annoyed him thoroughly, until he couldn't sit still at all and, once or twice, had even come close to physically throttling whatever staff member happened to walk by at some unlucky moment.

The waiting took just as long as usual today, but today, Sam didn't mind as much. Oh, he was impatient, of course, but not as ready to kill as he had been in other situations like this. This was due in part to the fact that he was still trying to get his bearings back, and partly because of his utter relief at the simple fact that his big brother was still alive.

Sam did have one worry, though—Ryo. Though the other man had been very calm and quiet since the accident, he was still white as a sheet and he looked ready to fly apart at the first wrong word.

Sam didn't try to talk to him. He recognized that look—that wild, carefully contained desperation that was so valuable to one of Ryo's profession—and to one of Sam's, for that matter—and yet so delicate that it would completely shatter if not strictly controlled.

Ryo seemed uncomfortably good at maintaining the façade. He kept it up as he and Sam were taken to be looked over, and it didn't so much as flicker when he was pronounced "shell-shocked, but otherwise fairly healthy."

They took longer to examine Sam himself. As Ryo had said, he had been much closer to the blast, and apparently he'd taken "quite a fall." So, the hospital personnel were ridiculously thorough in their examination, refusing to admit themselves satisfied until it seemed that every inch of him had been poked, prodded and jostled so that if he hadn't felt the aftereffects of the explosion before, he was as sore as an old man now. They even took it upon themselves to change the bandage on his wrist—though, to Sam's vast relief, they pronounced it "a fine stitching job" and didn't try to undo what Dean had already done.

At last, though, Sam was free to join Ryo in the waiting room, and for another half hour or so they sat in silence.

As is often the case, the doctor who _finally_ decided that maybe it was time to take pity on the two men brought rather anticlimactic news. Dee and Dean were "resting comfortably"—_yeah, right, not unless Dean's possessed_—and they would both be fine.

"Mr. Hampton can check out any time, but it seems that Mr. Laytner was closest to the actual blast, and so got the worst of it. I'd like to keep him overnight," the doc concluded, and Sam fought down a sigh of relief at the end of the monologue. Ryo, however, only looked alarmed, and it took several reassurances that the stay was only for observation, and not in any way indicative of true danger to Dee, to calm him down.

"So we can see them now?" Sam asked. It was a rhetorical question, and the doctor must have figured that out, because he just murmured the room number and then excused himself to go do doctor things, leaving them to find the place on their own.

The two were sharing a room, and for a moment Sam was inclined to wonder what idiot made _that_ mistake, though he suppressed the urge to laugh before going in.

And after taking a look at Dean's face, he was glad he did.

Dean was sitting up in his bed, arms crossed over his chest, scowling in annoyance. The second he saw Sam, the scowl deepened and he said, "You're one dead little geek, Sam."

"Why?" Sam asked innocently. "Ryo called the ambulance."

"You coulda stopped him," Dean said sullenly.

Sam shrugged, and didn't reply. He _certainly_ wasn't going to say, "Sorry, I was too busy falling apart to pay attention." Because seriously, how lame would _that_ sound?

"Seriously, though, you're okay?" Dean asked, though his frown didn't lighten.

"I'm fine. You did a crappy job on my arm, though—they decided to re-bandage it completely."

Dean shrugged, still glaring, though he relaxed marginally. "Sorry, man. I was a little distracted that night. And you're still not off the hook."

"Oh, relax. They'll release you any time, so you don't even have to stick around."

"Why couldn't you have thrown that in earlier?"

"Because I'm deliberately trying to hurt you."

"Shut up, Sammy."

XXX

During Dean and Sam's oh-so-loving exchange, Ryo crept to Dee's side as if sneaking up on an opposing army. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a deep sense of apprehension.

Dee had maneuvered his bed so that he was sitting up, and as Ryo drew closer he saw that his eyes were open, and he looked considerably more alert than he had in the ambulance. He smiled when Ryo stopped at his bedside, and murmured, "Hey, you."

"Hey," Ryo replied, reaching out to take Dee's warm hand tentatively in his own, after glancing quickly at Dean and Sam. "How are you feeling?"

Dee's smile widened. "Like half a building fell on me. Oh, wait…"

Ryo's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned. "That's not funny."

"Oh, come on, it's a little funny."

But Ryo didn't lose its haunted look, and Dee sighed and tugged on his hand, pulling him down onto the bed. Ryo resisted at first, a little self-conscious as always, but Dee was insistent, and in a moment Ryo was sitting next to him on the bed, their hands still clasped tightly together.

Ryo wanted, so badly, to tell Dee exactly what was bothering him. But the fact was, _that_ conversation was beginning to feel redundant even to him. So he stayed quiet and simply _looked_ at Dee for a long time.

Dee had gotten most of his color back by now, and he had lost that vague, not-really-there expression. The dazed tone of his voice was nearly gone, too, and his eyes were clear, since they didn't have him on any drugs. He looked a little tired, but otherwise healthy, and Ryo felt a sense of relief so profound that he had to fight back tears.

Then Dee gave him a warm, gentle, sleepy smile, and Ryo couldn't hold himself back anymore. For a moment, he forgot the inhibitions and the shyness that made him so anti-PDA, and leaned forward to give his lover a long kiss.

XXX

Sam and Dean carefully, tactfully, and completely ignored Ryo and Dee from the moment Ryo reached the bedside, but that didn't stop Dean from saying in a low voice, "I hope you're not expecting that kind of major 'moment'…"

Sam grinned, and actually managed a joking tone. "I'm just glad I don't have to sell my limbs to pay for a funeral."

Dean smirked. "Nah. Just put my ashes in my baby and toss us in a lake somewhere."

Sam tried to laugh, he truly did. _But, God, that's not funny…_

His weak chuckle must have satisfied Dean, though, because he shrugged and started to scramble out of bed. "C'mon, Sammy, let's get me out of here. We've got vamps to hunt."

Sam didn't bother arguing with him. "Fine. You go. I'll meet you at the desk to sign my half."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever. Five minutes."

He left the room without looking back, and then Sam turned toward Ryo and Dee, just as they finally parted from their liplock. Sam tried not to let his embarrassment show as he approached them, and he thought he managed it pretty well.

"Uh…we're gonna go now…" Sam said awkwardly, unsure how they would take being interrupted.

Ryo froze for a second, then turned to him with a smile despite the blush fanning out over his features. "Oh. All right. Do you guys want a ride to Mother's tonight, or just directions?"

Sam shrugged. "Just directions, I guess. Dean'll want to drive himself. He needs the catharsis, after today."

Ryo nodded, and freed his hand from Dee's long enough to jot down directions on a piece of paper from a little notebook he produced from his pocket. "Seven sharp. Mother won't stand for tardiness."

Dee spoke up then. "Don't forget to tell her I'll come to see her the second they let me out of here."

"Like she wouldn't force the promise out of me, anyway," Ryo said, rolling his eyes. "But are you sure you don't want us to postpone?"

Dee shook his head. "Nah. No reason, and it'd just make her think something's really wrong."

Ryo shrugged. "Well, the man has spoken. I'll see you guys tonight, Sam."

"Yeah, and probably for the last time," Sam replied, for some reason feeling like he needed to explain, at least a little. "Dean'll want to leave at first light if we waste the vamps today."

For a moment, Sam could have sworn Ryo looked disappointed—but, no, now his face was a mask of skepticism that told Sam he wasn't quite as ready to believe in vampires as he was to believe in shapeshifters.

"Well, at least call before you go," was all he said, though.

Sam wondered why for a moment, but he decided against asking and simply replied, "I'll try. See you tonight. Feel better, Dee," he added, ducking out of the room as Dee murmured his thanks, and going to join his still-breathing, devilishly-lucky brother for a hunt he actually wanted to go on.

XXX

Judas was tired. Exhausted, actually. He hadn't slept in two days—he'd been too busy with the hunters—and on top of that, keeping the tension between his brother and Lilah from exploding into something major had taken a lot out of him.

As a result of all this, he gave an order—phrased as a request, of course—that once they'd fed a little, they would find a nice, empty place to bed down for a while. He wasn't too concerned with the idea of hunters finding them again—at least not for a while—but it was probably a good idea to get away from the explosion site, just in case.

So, that was how the trio ended up in this cool, abandoned old two-story building, bedding down on two stolen cots, Lilah and Jude in one and Brutus in the other. Judas was fairly full, and that always made him rather lethargic. Even Brutus's squirming wasn't going to keep him awake for long, he thought with satisfaction, curling himself around Lilah.

He was just drifting off into a doze when the door exploded inwards.

XXX

It only took about an hour to find the vampires' new location, thanks to Sam's freaky new ability. Or…well, Dean wasn't sure if it was an "ability", per se, but maybe…heightened intuition? Of course, Sam wasn't exactly willing to _enlighten_ him, or anything…

_Then again, I haven't really been putting any pressure on him…but God, I'm no _good_ at stuff like that!_

Sam popped out from under the trunk lid and thrust a crossbow into his hands without looking at him, then began to load his own, working with a silent, single-minded focus that disturbed Dean a little, though he couldn't really say why. His brother had hardly said anything during the drive from the hospital, simply staring blankly out the window without seeming to really see anything. In fact, his only spoken word had been, "Here," which had apparently meant that Dean was supposed to stop.

Something was bothering him, Dean was sure of it, but now didn't seem like the time to ask…

And then it was time to throw away all thoughts and focus on the fight, and Dean forced himself not to wonder anymore.

It didn't end up being much of a fight, actually. The vamps only outnumbered them by one, and they had apparently been feeding, because they were all going to sleep when the Winchesters burst in, and their reaction time was considerably cut down. Sam took care of the one closest to the door, the one who didn't look much older than mid-teens, just as he was scrambling to his feet, without even needing the use of dead man's blood—which actually turned out not to be the best possible way of doing things, because apparently that one was special to the other guy…

Sam, though, faced the fury with absolute calm. In fact, Dean's presence turned out to be completely pointless—Sam took out both the creatures with two easy shots and two precise swings of his machete, taking them all out entirely on his own.

And where Dean would normally be bursting with pride, now he felt a twinge of alarm. Sam looked so cold, so unfeeling…not that these things deserved an ounce of pity, but still, Sam usually showed _something_ during a hunt, even if it was just his loathing of the job. Now…nothing.

But with Dean's alarm came a pang of familiarity, and finally he figured out why. Sam _had_ been this way before, and more than once. In fact, this was how he acted every time something had nearly killed Dean, dating back to his very first hunt.

So _that_ was kind of a relief, to know that Sam hadn't completely lost his mind.

'_Cause God knows we have enough insanity in our lives…_

XXX

For a long time after Sam left the room, Ryo and Dee sat together in silence, Ryo half-lying next to Dee on the bed, though he was ready to spring away the second he heard someone approach. Dee seemed utterly relaxed, and he was rapidly lulling Ryo into the same state, running a hand through his hair in that special way of his…

"I'll be sorry to see them go."

Ryo hadn't even realized he'd said it aloud until Dee's hand paused momentarily before resuming its gentle strokes, and he said, "Really? I won't."

"I know that. You've made it pretty obvious," Ryo replied.

He didn't realize he may have said something offensive until Dee dropped his hand and asked sharply, "What's _that_ mean?"

Ryo opened his eyes to look up at his partner, and was surprised to see that Dee's face was dark with anger. "Nothing," he said, trying to sound soothing, and sounding patronizing instead, which of course only made Dee more annoyed.

"Ryo…" Dee growled.

"Well, you _do_ have to admit that you haven't exactly been polite to them—"

"Well, neither were they!"

"Look at the circumstances, Dee," Ryo snapped, beginning to lose his temper in spite of himself. "One of them was injured, and the other was concerned for him and him only, and you and I were standing between them and what they considered safety. Besides, they'd just come off a major fight, and then you start in with that NYPD cop stuff—"

"I _am_ an NYPD cop! And so are you! And that was a completely _non-law-abiding_ fight! Have you forgotten the _law_, Ryo?"

"Well, without that law-breaking that shapeshifter never would have been killed and you'd be dead by now. And if it wasn't for them I would _still_ be trying to find you, still thinking I'd lost you. You nearly _died_ on me, and if it wasn't for Dean and Sam—"

"Oh, good God, Ryo, when are you going to get _over_ that?"

An abrupt silence took the place of their heated words, and for a moment neither of them moved. Then Ryo pushed himself slowly off the bed and walked across the room, and the silence continued.

Then Dee spoke, and he sounded absolutely stricken. "Oh…oh, Ryo, I'm so sorry. That was so stupid. I didn't mean it, I _didn't_…"

Ryo couldn't look at him.

"Ryo, _please_, I—"

He sounded like he was going to cry, and Ryo finally glanced over, and softened marginally at the look on Dee's face, enough to keep the ice from his voice when he finally said something. "You're tired. Get some rest. I'll be back to pick you up in the morning."

"A-aren't you gonna stay?" Dee asked uncertainly, sounding like a frightened child.

Ryo sighed, and shook his head. "I think…I should just go back to the precinct and…get some work done."

"Ryo…" Dee's voice sounded one more time, and Ryo froze by the door. "You know that I love you more than anything, right?"

Ryo half-turned, and smiled wanly. "I know."

And then he left Dee alone, to brood on his guilt.

* * *

AN: I know, random place to end. But I dunno, it seemed right to me. And also, _so sorry_ it took me so long. But I do have an excuse, and it goes by the name of _The Last Herald-Mage Trilogy_, by Mercedes Lackey. Picked the first one up last week, and didn't write a single thing until I'd finished off the series. If any of you have ever read a truly amazing book, you'll know what I went through during that time. If it helps, I do feel bad…

Oh, and before I beg for reviews, there's one other thing you guys should know. I did _not_ intend to give the vampires actual personalities. They were initially supposed to be just another crush-kill-destroy mission of our beloved, sexy Winchester boyz, and the personality part just kinda happened. But they're gone now, so I guess it doesn't matter. But can anyone find evidence of my twisted sense of humor? If you can…well, I have nothing to give you, but it'll at least mean you're fairly literate!

Now we're at the part where I beg.

PLEEEEEASE REVIEW!


	8. Chapter 7: Kamikaze Nuns and Weird Mist

"Hey, Biks, I'm home!" Ryo called, tossing his jacket onto the couch and collapsing next to it, running a hand over his face as he did. He was so _tired…_

"Hi, Ryo," Bikky said around a mouthful of chips as he came into the room.

"Bikky, that's disgusting," Ryo pointed out.

Bikky shrugged. "Where's the freak?"

Ryo leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Hospital."

He opened his eyes again when he felt additional weight next to him, and found Bikky looking at him with ill-disguised concern, though his voice held its normal level of sarcasm. "He did something stupid again, then. What happened?"

So, Ryo explained the whole story—well, most of it. He omitted the part about the vampires—he didn't think Bikky needed to know about that—and the stuff about Sam and Dean, because it was way too complicated to explain right now. "I got released pretty quickly, but they want to keep Dee overnight for observation," he concluded, reaching over absently to take a handful of Bikky's chips.

"And that's where he is now," Bikky said rhetorically. Ryo nodded. "And you're here." Ryo nodded again. "Uh…why?"

"What do you mean?" Ryo asked innocently.

"Oh, cut it out, Ryo," Bikky snapped. "You two were in an explosion, and now Dee's in the hospital, and you're here and not there. There's gotta be a reason for that."

Ryo sighed heavily. It was so hard to hide anything from Bikky these days…

"Well?"

"We had a fight."

"…Ah. Bad?" Bikky asked carefully.

Ryo shrugged. "Nah. It'll be okay—I'll fix it."

"What was it about?"

"Uh…nothing much…just…stuff," Ryo said evasively. "Hey, do you and Carol have plans tonight?" he asked, changing the subject before his son could voice any more uncomfortable questions.

Bikky shrugged. "Nothing set in stone. Why?"

"Mother invited us to dinner," Ryo explained. "Dee was supposed to come, since the main reason she invited us was so she could yell at him about that whole disappearance thing, but he told us not to cancel, so…yeah. You want to go with me?"

"Sure, I guess," Bikky said, shrugging. "Wish the Skankmeister could be there, though. I like watching Maria yell at him…"

XXX

"Thank God we're leaving tomorrow," Dean murmured, stretching out on the bed with a soft groan and closing his eyes. Every inch of him was twinging or throbbing or _sore_, and though he thought he'd done a pretty good job hiding it from Sam, he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep that up, when all he wanted to do was sleep…

Sam didn't answer him for a moment. Then he said absently, "Yeah, me, too…I guess."

"Whaddya mean, you guess? I thought you hated cities," Dean said, opening his eyes again so that he could shoot a curious look at his brother.

Sam was lying on his own bed, his injured arm lying across his chest and his other propping his head up. He looked as exhausted as Dean felt. Still, his eyes were open and he sounded alert when he answered, so Dean forced himself not to worry.

"Well, yeah, I do, but…"

"But what?" Dean asked.

"But…well, I guess I'm just gonna miss Ryo and Dee a little, is all."

"Why?" Dean asked, unable to keep from scoffing. At Sam's look, he amended himself. "Well, okay, maybe Ryo isn't so bad, but Dee—Dee's a different story."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You do realize why that is, don't you?"

"You're not gonna quote Freud to me, are you? 'Cause I'll run over you with my girl—and then back up."

Sam snorted. "He bugs you so much because you two are so alike."

Dean sat up as far as his exhaustion would allow and glared at him. "Take that back."

"Nope. It's just the truth, Dean. You can't see it _because_ you hate him, but you _are_ alike."

Dean collapsed back against the pillows and shook his head. "You're wrong this time, geek boy."

Sam didn't reply, but Dean knew from his expression that he wasn't convinced—which was _more_ irritating, really, not less. But arguing with him further was…worse than useless.

"Besides, I really can't blame him for being that way," Sam said thoughtfully.

So apparently _he_ wasn't as ready to drop the conversation.

Dean sighed. "Oh, I would _love_ to know what you're talking about."

"Really?" Sam asked, sounding amused.

"No, not really, but I bet you're gonna tell me anyway."

"Well, think about it, Dean," Sam insisted, ignoring the tone. "We come into town, and in less than a day we turn everything upside down. We go around breaking every vigilante law this city has ever set down. And sure, it's for a good cause—a great cause—but we can't expect them to fully understand that, because what _we_ do to help people is so different from what _they_ do to achieve the same thing. And to make it worse, when they actually catch us _at_ it, _you_ act like the Lord on High Himself…"

Dean opened his mouth furiously, and Sam went quickly to placate him.

"I mean, I get _why_, but from their—_his­_—point of view, you were just being a jerk. _Plus_, that same night, we tell them a whole spectrum of things they've never even imagined and probably didn't really want to hear. And _then_ they have to tell their superior officer all of it, which probably didn't give a huge amount of credit to their sanity. And—"

"Okay, okay, I don't need a damn recap! What is your _point, _Mouthy McGee?"

"My point is it's a lot of stress, Dean! And you can't really blame Dee Laytner for being a little unhappy about all this. Can you?"

Dean clenched his teeth. He _hated_ it when Sam made sense…

"Well, what's with Ryo, then?" he found himself asking, despite his desire to end this conversation before it went any further. "Why doesn't _he_ act like it's the last days of Sonny and Cher?"

_That_ gave Sam pause—for about three seconds. "He's different from Dee, is all. Plus—well, from what I picked up, Ryo actually _saw_ that 'shifter's body—_before_ we found Dee. So, he believes it. Or…some of it, anyway. He doesn't have a choice. So, he _chose_ to accept it. See?"

Dean glared at him again. "The only thing I _see_ is why Dad never wanted you to go to college."

He was taken aback when, instead of taking the comment at face value and withdrawing into moody silence, Sam actually smiled, and changed the subject.

"So do you think it'll actually be _him_ at the church tonight…?"

XXX

Dean and Sam probably would have been late, despite Ryo's cautions, if Sam hadn't been absolutely adamant that they leave the motel _on time_, whether Dean was actually ready or not. And even _that_ might not have worked, except that Sam made it very clear that he fully intended to take the Impala and go by himself if Dean made them late.

As it was, though, they pulled up in front of the address Ryo had given Sam two minutes _before_ seven—to find Ryo already there, waiting for them.

He climbed out of his car as they pulled to a stop, and someone else got out of the other side and went around to join him as Dean and Sam approached.

The first thing Sam noticed was that Ryo looked much more strained right now than he had when Sam had left him at the hospital. He looked a little pale and more than a little tired, and Sam felt a stab of concern. But he smiled and said, "Hello," and he _sounded_ all right…

"And this is my son Bikky," Ryo added to his greeting. "Biks, Sam and Dean. I met them through Dee." He said that last part as if he'd been practicing it, and Sam suspected that he had been trying to figure out what to tell his son.

Bikky reached out to shake each of their hands. He wasn't _frowning_, but he was hardly smiling, either. In fact, he looked unaccountably serious for a teenager—as well as intelligent, and somehow even a little intimidating. Sam recognized that look—he'd seen that kind of haunted expression in himself, though it was rather less in this young man. Bikky had seen a lot of the world, maybe too much for someone his age, and that wasn't something you forgot. Knowing this very well, Sam found himself warming to Bikky, and he smiled at the boy (kid? Man? Who would tell?). Bikky nodded back, returning the smile enough to lighten his expression before following Ryo onto the porch of the little church-house-thing as the latter rang the bell.

"DOOR!" A voice, slightly muffled, echoed through the door.

"WHAT?" another answered.

"THE BELL'S RINGING!"

"WELL, GET IT THEN!"

"WHAT IF IT'S A SERIAL KILLER?"

"WE'RE IN A _CHURCH_, MORON!"

"ALL THE MORE REASON FOR SOME PSYCHO TO COME HERE!"

"OH, FOR THE LOVE OF CH—"

"YOUNG MAN, YOU DO _NOT_ WANT TO FINISH THAT SENTENCE!"

Abrupt silence fell behind the door, and a moment later it swung open to reveal a small woman in a nun's habit. This woman had a very lined face, but the face was still kind and gentle, though at the moment she was frowning darkly at a boy who still stood behind her, looking sheepish.

"Well, come in, then," she offered, finally taking her gaze off the poor, unfortunate kid and standing aside to let them pass.

"Oh…hi, Ryo," the kid the nun had been looking at said. "Hey, Bikky." He looked at Sam and Dean, and nodded in greeting, but didn't ask who they were. "Sorry about the floor show."

Ryo grinned at him. "Don't worry about it. I approve."

The kid rolled his eyes. "Must you _always_ be such a _cop_?"

The nun—Sam decided that she could only be Maria Lane—had been flicking her gaze over their group, and now she suddenly turned to the boy and said pointedly, "Jimmy, don't you have somewhere to be?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Not really." And then he looked as if he'd made some horrible mistake, and _knew_ it.

"Good. That means you're free to go clean the bathroom. I meant to do it myself, but it's getting harder and harder to kneel down with these old bones…oh, and grab Nate from the living room before you go up. He can do some laundry." She glared as Jimmy went to protest. _"Go_."

So, Jimmy went, muttering under his breath.

"Oh, and Jimmy?"

Jimmy turned, looking as if he very much didn't want to.

"One _hears_ that there's a basketball game going on at the court tonight. One _also_ hears that it starts in _half an hour_." She said all this very conversationally, but Jimmy's face lit up like Christmas, and he flashed a grin at Maria before charging up the stairs, yelling over his shoulder into what must be the living room.

Maria waited for both him and the other guy to disappear upstairs before she turned to Ryo with her hands on her hips and glared at him. "All right, where is he?"

Ryo sighed and said heavily, "He's all right, Mother."

But that vague reply proved to be a waste of breath, for Maria seemed to instantly pick up and decipher exactly what Ryo _wasn't_ saying. "That's all well and good, but _where is he_?"

"At the hospital," Ryo said resignedly. "There was an explosion—"

Maria paled visibly, but her voice didn't even quake as she replied. "And why was he in the building without his partner?" She didn't sound accusatory. She _did_ sound angry, but somehow Sam knew it wasn't directed at Ryo.

"He ran in ahead."

"That _idiot_," Maria said furiously. "That foolish_ idiot_…but he's all right?"

Ryo nodded. "He's stuck in the hospital overnight. That's why he's not here now. It's just for observation. He's bored, but he'll be okay. He says he'll come see you when he's released."

Maria nodded slowly, and some of the color came back to her cheeks. "Good. _Make sure_ he shows up tomorrow. Now…Sam and Dean."

Sam started at the sound of his name, and saw with surprise that Maria was giving him and his brother a penetrating look.

"You two are brothers."

"Uh…yes…" Sam said slowly, though it didn't seem to be a question.

"Sam and Dean…I've been trying to figure out why those names sound familiar to me ever since Ryo called. I've also been trying to figure out what he meant when I asked him how he met you two, and he said, 'You won't believe me if I told you.'" She looked thoughtfully from Sam to Dean and back. "And I think I've finally figured it out."

Sam had an uneasy feeling, and somehow he had an idea of where Maria was going with this even before she continued.

"Ryo said he doesn't know your last names. It makes him uneasy, not to know, but he said there's nothing he can do about it. No, Ryo doesn't know your last name…but I think I do." She looked again at each of them, and Sam found he could not look away.

"Is your father's name John Winchester?"

XXX

Dee Laytner sat in his hospital bed in his silent room, and for the first time ever, wished for a roommate. Normally, he appreciated a room all to himself, because it gave at least _some_ semblance of privacy, except for the intrusion of doctors and nurses. And that, in turn, at least gave him a _chance_ to loosen Ryo up a little…

But now Ryo was gone, and apparently he wasn't coming back tonight, and Dee wanted a roommate.

Dee sighed and turned off the TV he'd been staring at absently for the last hour, dropping the remote on the bed, and fell back to brooding.

He'd been kicking himself very hard all afternoon. Even when he wasn't conscious of it, he'd been silently berating himself. _How_ could he have said what he'd said to Ryo? How could he have even _thought_ what he'd said to Ryo? It was _completely_ understandable that his love was still a little shaken up. If Dee himself had been through what Ryo had…well, comparatively, Ryo was very calm indeed. It was _understandable_.

And Dee _did_ understand it. He hadn't felt even a twinge of annoyance at any time when Ryo brought up the whole subject of the shapeshifter. All he'd felt at those moments had been sadness for Ryo, and an overwhelming, all-consuming _love_ of this man who obviously felt so much for him. All Ryo had ever _done_ was love him…

And where had it even _come_ from? He hadn't _felt_ that way—he still didn't—so what had made him _say_ it? Dee had no idea—one second, he'd been arguing with Ryo on what now seemed like the horribly petty subject of Dean and Sam, and the next—those words, those terrible, unbelievable words, and then the silence, and Ryo's hurt expression that had said far more than words could have, and Dee had wanted to die.

I'm such a bastard… 

And the worst part of it was that Ryo would _forgive_ him. He wouldn't deliver any hurtful words of his own, he wouldn't fight, he wouldn't even raise his voice. There would be no guilt trip, no simmering anger. There would only be quiet forgiveness, and that would not even be spoken. In fact, it was quite possible that Ryo would never bring up their argument again, or even hint that he remembered it at all. And his love for Dee would not diminish, or even change.

But Ryo would never again mention the shapeshifter. No matter how many times he thought of it, he would never articulate it. He would suffer in silence, if it killed him. He would continue to confide in Dee on all other subjects, but never that. And if he didn't talk to Dee about it…then who _could_ he talk to? Very few people knew about Dee's supposed death, and that group did not include someone Ryo would truly open up to. Rose was out of the question, of course. JJ was a good friend—a great friend—but Ryo wouldn't want to raise the subject with him, because he had always been very sensitive and probably wouldn't want to be reminded of that time. And everyone else…well, they were friends, of course, but not _close_ friends, and certainly not people Ryo would bare his soul to.

Maybe if things were different, Ryo would have talked to Bikky. Maybe if Bikky were older, or if he'd actually_ known_ about all this, he could have been that person Ryo needed. But Ryo would never, under any circumstances, broach the subject to his son. Maybe it wasn't wise, but it was the course Ryo would take. It was the same way with Mother Maria. Dee didn't doubt for a moment that both of them could handle it, but even if Ryo thought so, too, he would _still_ be convinced that the best way would be keeping his feelings to himself, and avoid upsetting anyone else, regardless of what it did to _him_.

There was no solution that Dee could see, and his guilt kicked itself up a couple notches.

He sighed and rubbed his right temple as he felt a headache begin to build. It mixed with the guilt, and made Dee feel like he was about to throw up the crap that passed for food in this place. But the rubbing didn't help—it just made the feeling worse.

And after the headache and the guilt were finished mixing like pumpkin bread—they exploded into a pain so absolute that Dee _knew _nothing he had ever felt had equaled it, and nothing ever would. He was blind, and he was deaf, and there was only pain, and he began to scream without even hearing himself.

He never saw the mist.

* * *

AN: Okay, I have absolutely nothing left in me to come up with something clever for an end note. This week has been hell, and, oh, look, it's only Wednesday…so I'll just skip that part, and ask you to please review if you have the time, and leave it at that. 


	9. Chapter 8: Questons, Answered and Raised

Sam stared at Mother Maria, trying his hardest to hide his shock and only succeeding about halfway. He _wanted_ to look over at his brother, but the nun's eyes had captured him, and Sam had a feeling they would hold him until Maria turned away herself. He heard Dean making inarticulate choking noises, though, and his deep knowledge of his brother allowed him to picture the face to go with the sound.

The silence dragged on. Ryo didn't seem inclined to help—either that, or he couldn't come up with anything to say—and Bikky hadn't said a word since they'd come into the church. Maria just kept looking from Dean to Sam, and she obviously didn't plan to push them, though she didn't seem inclined to drop the question, either.

"Uh…" Sam finally managed to splutter, mostly out of desperation to say _something_. "Uh…well, yeah, but…_what_?"

Dean was a little more coherent. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, bestowing a hard look of his own.

Maria looked at him, really _looked_, and Sam sighed in relief as the gray eyes released him, freeing him to look at his brother. Dean was glaring at the nun, looking as if he very much resented her and her knowledge.

But Maria didn't flinch. She just sighed and said, "Why don't you come into the living room and we can talk?"

Dean grunted. "Yeah, I think that'd be good."

"Hey, Mother, where's Morgan?" Bikky asked, finally speaking as Maria was turning to lead them into the living room.

"He took his sister to the court to watch the game," Maria replied over her shoulder.

"Ryo?"

Ryo nodded dismissively. "Go ahead."

Bikky grinned, and the effect on his features was astonishing. "Thanks, Ryo!"

Watching the teen run out, Sam very nearly asked one of the many questions on his mind, before quelling the urge and following everyone else.

The living room was large, but cozy, and crowded with armchairs, a big couch, and an old TV. Maria went instantly to one of the larger chairs and sat down, while Ryo sank down on the couch and leaned back with a sigh that gave Sam a pang of sympathy. He and Dean sat, too, a little awkwardly, and for a few moments none of them spoke.

Then, just when Sam felt quite ready to run screaming from the room, Maria rolled her eyes and said, "All right, it's clear that neither of you is going to start this on your own. _Men…_" With a disgusted and very un-nunnish snort, she sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "Well, now…where to begin?"

"How about with 'I know your dad because…'?" Dean asked, sounding a little irritated.

Maria smiled at him, with all the understanding for his behavior that _Sam_ certainly didn't have. "Good a place as any, I suppose. But there are a lot of blanks in the story, even after all these years."

"And we _might_ even decide to fill a couple of them," Dean replied.

"Well, a half-baked promise is better than nothing," Maria sighed. She was silent for a moment, seeming to let her mind drift back as she figured out where to begin. Then she just…started talking. "I'm actually a little surprised that_ you_ don't remember at least my name. You _were_ almost six years old at the time."

Dean's expression didn't so much as flicker.

"Well, I can see you'll be a joy to have at the dinner table," Maria said, _sounding _disgruntled but still _looking_ completely sympathetic. When she spoke again, though, it was to her whole audience, instead of just to Dean.

"It was twenty-one years ago, almost to the month, that John showed up. I was still running the orphanage back then, but the church was an actual church, too. Anyways, it was _late_, and the kids were in bed. I was headed that way myself when I heard someone calling from the church part of the building. The voice didn't sound familiar, but the man knew my name. I let my curiosity get the better of me, figuring that people of…disreputable nature weren't likely to come in shouting.

"Well, when I got into the church, I found three people waiting for me—a guy, in his…late thirties, early forties, somewhere around there. He had a baby in his arms—well, almost a toddler, really—and a little boy next to him. Neither of you made a single sound, by the way, which gave me chills. Even Sam, little as he was, looked…sad, and somehow determined. And the first thing I asked myself was how this man was raising his children, to make them that way. Well, I _had_ to wonder!" she protested at Dean's cold glare. "You didn't seem like _children_ at all, and as a woman who's lived in New York City for her entire life, _and_ who runs a place that's _called_ an orphanage but—let's face it—is mostly a runaway center for abused kids…you can hardly blame me for thinking it!

"And besides, the thought left my head before a single minute passed, just watching how he handled you, and the way you looked at him. He was so gentle, and he never once raised his voice, even when Sam took one look at me and started _crying_, like the world was coming to an end. And you, Dean…you wouldn't stray two inches from him—and you _knew_ when he moved away, even though you didn't take your eyes off me.

"So, anyway, John gets Sam calmed down, and then he introduces himself and you two, and then he's quiet for a long time, until I get impatient and ask him why he's come barging into my church in the middle of the night.

"I got the _feeling_ that there was a long story behind his reason, so I was surprised when he just asked me what sounded like a completely insane question. He asked me if I believed in the Supernatural." Maria sighed then, and shook his head. "Well, I had no idea what to say. It was just such a surprising _question_. So, I just continued our little game by replying with _another_ question—why was he asking?

"He didn't tell me much. Just said that he hunted demons and spirits, and that he'd spent the last year establishing contacts all over the country, especially in churches, to help him do it. He didn't seem to particularly care whether I believed him or not, or whether I believed in these things, as long as I let him finish and didn't throw him out."

Maria paused for a moment, her eyes distant. "I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't know what to _make_ of him, or you two, or what he was saying to me. It just all seemed so _surreal_. I still remember exactly what I finally said. I told him, 'Mr. Winchester, the fact is, I _do_ believe that there are other things out there…dangerous things. And it's a good thing, what you're doing—fighting them. But I have a life here, and I have people to take care of. I can't afford to draw _their_ attention to us."

She looked sad, then. "I sometimes…regret that now. And I felt bad then, too, because I wasn't telling the _whole_ truth. But John seemed to sense what I didn't say—that I was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I stuck my neck out, afraid of the possibility of death at a demonic hand. An old woman's fears, I'm afraid, and nothing more.

"John didn't argue. He seemed somehow…above it. He just nodded, and thanked me for my time, and then you all just…left without another word. And I never heard a thing out of any of you ever again. I never forgot, though. I never _could_ forget—him, or you."

Her voice drifted off, and silence fell again.

Sam, for one, didn't quite know what to say. This was one thing even he had not foreseen. John Winchester had talked often and openly about all of his contacts in the U.S., and Sam had met most of them. They kept in touch with each other faithfully, and Sam had thought he understood. But he'd never considered the idea that some members of the clergy would simply refuse to join the fight—and he'd never thought that there could be people who knew him that he'd never even heard of.

And yet here he was, talking to a nun who fit that description exactly, but did not in any way fit the description of an actual nun, and who had apparently been wondering about them for over two decades, though there was really no reason for her to care at all. And, on top of it, an NYPD detective now had Dean's full name to enter into the records, and if he decided to try and dig something up, it could very well be nothing short of cataclysmic…

At the thought of Dean, Sam's mind switched to another subject entirely. Why _hadn't_ his brother recalled at least _something_ of Maria Lane? A nun with a tongue as sharp as Maria's seemed to be was hardly _forgettable_, and Sam happened to know that Dean had a very long and very clear memory. Still, the older Winchester _had_ been only six at the time…

But that didn't quite fit, either, because Dean had told Sam that he did remember the night of Mary Winchester's death—though the details were getting a little fuzzy after nearly twenty-three years. Still, he_ remembered_, and naturally, it would follow that he remembered the nights after. So why didn't he remember Maria?

And, more importantly, how was Sam supposed to broach the subject with his brother, and get his questions answered? How could he ask about something involving John _and_ the early days without hurting them both?

These thoughts and questions chased each other madly through Sam's head, creating bedlam that made the normal noise seem tiny in comparison. He felt a headache begin to build again, and wished devoutly for the pills in his bag at the motel. But…no, it wasn't bad enough to mention, and at any rate, he was beginning to fear becoming _too_ reliant on the things…

"So," Maria said, pulling Sam abruptly out of his own head, for which he was profoundly grateful. "I've answered all _your_ questions. But _I_ have some, too, and _I've_ been holding onto them for twenty years."

"We'll answer them," Dean said wearily, much to Sam's surprise—and concern. He sounded so _tired_…and sad…with that undercurrent of anger that almost always layered his voice nowadays, especially when he talked about John. Sam worried about that anger, but he couldn't do anything about it, and it was so _frustrating_.

The headache asserted itself with another throb, and Sam brought his mind back to the subject at hand before it could do more than that, just as Dean said impatiently, "Well, get on with it, will you?"

"Actually, all of my questions can be summed up pretty easily. What started your search, and what brought you into my church that night?"

Sam knew the question must have hurt Dean, somewhere deep inside where he actually allowed feelings to penetrate, but he didn't allow it to so much as flicker across his face as he answered, in a calm, even voice that meant his feelings went _very_ deep.

"We started hunting when a demon killed our mom, when Sam was six months old. Dad started it, obviously, and raised me and Sam to that life. He taught us to shoot, knife-fighting, _physical_ fighting…trained us in pretty much every weapon known to man. And then there were the Latin lessons, too. Anyway, when it started out, Dad just wanted that one demon that killed Mom. But as time went on, and we didn't find it…well, it started turning into something _more_ than just revenge, until it became a full-time job, hunting down just about anything evil—with the help of church leaders all over the country, which, I guess, is how he ended up here."

As suddenly as he'd started speaking, Dean fell silent, and sat back without looking at any of them, while Sam stared studiously at his hands and tried to ignore the weight of the two pitying gazes on him. God, he _hated_ being looked at that way…

Finally, though, Maria spoke, with brightness that sounded only slightly forced. "Let's talk about something more cheerful, hey? Tell me about your father. How is he? Why isn't he with you?"

"He's dead," Dean said flatly. "You're really good at happy conversation, aren't you?"

And then the conversation died past all resuscitation. Sam and Dean sat in silence, enduring more of the _looks_, as time ticked slowly by. Sam was trying frantically to find _some_ topic to take the attention off their lives, and maybe something that would help Dean forget, when thankfully the matter was taken entirely out of his hands with the slamming of the door.

"So then I tell Dee that if I have to watch him feel up my dad one more time—"

"Oh, _gross_! Could you _ve_ any cruder?"

"Oh, yeah, I can be cruder. You wanna hear it?"

"Uh…no, thanks…hi, Mother, hi, Ryo…oh, my God…"

The exchange was abruptly cut off when Bikky reappeared in the doorway, with another kid about sixteen years old, who was holding the hand of a small, big-eyed, utterly silent girl.

Sam's eyes widened in recognition, and he felt a huge smile break across his face as he stood up, Dean copying him a fraction of a second later.

The teen grinned back at them, and let go of his sister's hand to stride across the room. Sam held out a hand to shake, but Morgan rolled his eyes and grabbed him in a fierce hug. Sam grunted in surprise, but then hugged him back, noting in the back of his mind that the kid was getting _tall_. _Must've hit a growth spurt._ He was still thin, though—he probably always would be, Sam thought with a pang.

Sam found himself chuckling as he let go of the kid, and the sound was foreign to him. "Morgan, what are you _doing_ here?"

Morgan smiled again and turned to hug a very startled Dean, who did _not_ return the gesture, but just stood there and looked freaked out—and _happy_.

Well…happi_er_.

"Sari, come over here," Morgan said, and the little girl came cautiously forward. She hadn't grown much, but she looked a lot healthier than she had a year ago, and she only hid partly behind Morgan instead of concealing herself completely. Morgan half-turned and leaned over, scooping her up easily. "Do you remember Sam and Dean, Sari?"

Sari nodded, and smiled with much more ease than she used to, though she still didn't speak. Sam was used to that, and he gave her his most charming grin. "Hi, Sari. It's good to see you again."

She nodded in agreement just as Ryo spoke up for the first time in the whole conversation, his tone mild but his interest clearly sharp.

"I take it you…know each other?"

"Morgan, what's goin' on?" Bikky asked a beat later.

"You still haven't answered me," Sam added.

Morgan smiled at him again and sat down on the large couch, swinging Sari around and settling her onto his lap. She looked remarkably small next to him, but she seemed more comfortable than Sam had ever seen her. Everyone returned to their seats then, and Morgan said, "Okay, we can talk now."

"_Now_ will you share with the class how the hell you _got_ here?" Sam asked impatiently.

Morgan shrugged. "You guys, actually. Well, in a way. It's kind of a long story."

"Would someone _please_ clue me in here?" Bikky asked, sounding a little irritated. "I'm already getting the feeling that I missed a big _something_ while we were gone and I don't like the feeling!"

"Uh…sorry, Bik," Morgan said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I'm just…surprised, is all. I haven't seen or talked to these two in over a year."

"We met him through…uh…work," Sam supplied quickly, for Bikky's benefit, and Dean nodded in agreement.

"Oh, don't be so modest," Morgan chuckled. "These two saved my arse," he added to the room in general. Sam tensed a little, until the teen went on. "I was being attacked by this real freak and they—ran him off. And _then_ they followed me to the Crap Shack, a.k.a. our home at the time, and…well, things sorta spiraled, and I ended up in their motel with Sari, with a pile of money in my lap and the name of a shelter for us."

Sam blessed the fact that Ryo didn't react at all to the "pile of money" thing.

"So anyway, as to how I got here," Morgan went on. "We made your money last for quite a while—we left the Crap Shack and got a really tiny room at a motel. We stayed there for about a month and just sort of…let a little time go by, while we figured out where our lives were going. The money lasted us a big longer than that, and we started shelter-hopping." Morgan shrugged. "Wasn't a bad way of doing things, especially compared to the way we lived before, but…we wanted something more…permanent, y'know?

"Well, at one of the shelters we stayed at, the guy was running it was actually really nice, and I decided it was time to ask someone for advice on the subject. And this guy seriously _thought_ about it—instead of just brushing me off—and finally he told me I should try New York City. Turns out he was a friend of Mother Maria, and he thought this place may be exactly what we were looking for. And _then_ he went above and beyond by offering to _pay_ to ship us over here. And…well, that's it. We found this church, and as soon as she heard our story, Mother welcomed us. That was about two months ago, and we've been here ever since."

"And you'll continue being here until you get your G.E.D., and find a decent-paying job, and find a place to live, and become able to support yourself," Maria said firmly, and Morgan chuckled.

"Hey, you won't get any arguments from us. Right, Sari?"

Sari nodded, and smiled, and it occurred to Sam that she was doing that a lot more now. And for a moment, he forgot about everything and just allowed himself a moment of warmth.

We did a good thing there… 

XXX

Dinner lasted almost an hour-and-a-half. They lingered over the food and the conversation, and most importantly, said conversation was _normal_. No mention of demons, or spirits, or hunting, or really anything to do with the Winchesters.

Dean kept an eye on Morgan and Sari the entire time he ate, and he liked what he saw. Morgan chattered animatedly, and Sari, though she still didn't talk, no longer shrank away whenever someone looked at her. They didn't attack their food like animals, so they weren't starving anymore, and they weren't as pale as they used to be.

They seemed so much happier now.

And _he_ had helped make it happen.

If Dean Winchester were the kind of person to admit to warm-fuzzies, he definitely would have felt them now.

But, as it was, he just sat next to his brother, and ate, and watched, and didn't say anything, and tried to ignore the fact that his brother kept glancing at him in what _had _to be a questioning way. What the question was, Dean wasn't sure he wanted to think about…

XXX

It was almost 9:00 when Dean, Sam, Ryo, and Bikky finally stepped out of the church, accompanied by Morgan and Maria—Sari had gone to bed once she was done eating. All night, kids had been trickling in, and Sam and Dean had been exposed to more homeless teens than they'd ever seen. But Maria treated them all exactly the same as any other kid, and they all seemed to love her.

All in all it seemed like a nice place, and Sam was glad his young friend had found it.

"So how long are you guys staying?" Morgan asked as Maria took Ryo aside, leaving them alone.

Dean shrugged. "We'll probably leave first thing in the morning. We finished up a couple days ago, and we would have left today at the latest, if not for this."

Morgan smiled at that, but let it pass without comment. "Will we see you again before you go?"

"We could drop by in the morning if you want," Sam offered.

"I'd like that. And Sari would love it. Thanks."

Sam smiled. "Okay, then. We—"

"We should go," Dean cut him off—perhaps sensing what he was about to say—and brushed past them both, heading for the car.

"Uh…sorry," Sam said. "He's…it's not you, I swear. And he's right—we should go. Gotta pack and all…"

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you tomorrow." Morgan reached out—and up, just slightly—and patted Sam's shoulder. "Go figure out what's bugging your brother." As Sam raised an eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about it all night."

Sam tried not to show his thoughts, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

_He should _not_ be that perceptive…he doesn't _talk_ to people. That's creepy…_

XXX

"So," Maria said, watching as the Impala drove away. Morgan had already gone back inside, and Bikky had tactfully moved off during the goodbyes, leaving them alone. "Are you going to tell me about the fight?"

"…Huh?" Ryo asked stupidly.

"The fight you and Dee had earlier that's been on your mind all night. Do you want to tell me about it, or do you just want to pretend it didn't happen?"

Ryo shrugged. "Like I told Bikky, it wasn't really a _fight_." He didn't bother asking how she knew—she was a mother _and_ a nun, after all.

"Oh? Then what was it, _really_?" Maria asked.

"We had a…thing."

"A thing?"

"A tiny thing. Hardly worth mentioning."

"Then why do you look like your puppy just died?" Maria asked shrewedly.

"I do _not_ look like that. Look, it was nothing. I said some things. He said some things…"

"Would you like to tell me what?"

Ryo shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It's done with. I'm fine. And we're fine. Or…we will be."

Maria looked hard at him, then said, "You're hurt. What he said hurt you." She didn't give him a chance to confirm or deny. "But you don't want to tell him so, so you're just gonna forget about it."

"Well…well, yeah," Ryo said, a little uncomfortably.

"Why?" Maria pressed.

"I don't want to make him feel bad…"

Maria chuckled. "Oh, Ryo, Ryo, Ryo, you don't understand at all, do you?"

"This conversation? No, not really."

"He _already_ feels bad. He _knows_ he hurt you, and he probably _knows_ you're going to pretend you didn't. But he also _knows_ you're just pretending. _You have to talk to him_, Ryo."

Once again, Maria had displayed her talent for making the fewest words go the longest way, and Ryo sighed. "Okay, I'm the idiot."

"So?"

"So…I'll…talk to him when I pick him up in the morning."

She shook her head. "Now. I think you should do it now. You shouldn't go to bed without resolving this."

"But visiting hours will be over soon—"

"Then you should probably hurry, shouldn't you?"

Ryo looked at her for a moment, then suddenly smiled tiredly and said, "What would we do without you, Mother?"

Maria shrugged. "Probably eat a lot of soup, and buy some cats. Now _go_."

XXX

Dean forced himself not to so much as glance at his brother the entire time they packed to leave. He had been waiting tensely for Sam to ask the question he _knew_ was coming all night long. He had felt the curious look Sam had shot at him when Maria made that comment about Dean not remembering her, and knew that Sam had to be wondering. After all, Dean remembered the night of the fire, if dimly, so it therefore followed that he must remember afterwards.

Only…he didn't.

He didn't remember a thing after the fire. From the moment he'd stepped out of the burning house with little Sammy in his arms to the moment he picked up his first weapon three years later, Dean's mind was a complete blank. He couldn't understand _why_ that was, but in the end he supposed it didn't matter. It hadn't done any harm, and he wasn't sure he wanted to remember those days, anyway.

But how was he to tell _Sam_ all that? He'd never told _anyone_ that, not even his father…

And besides, Sam would probably make the whole thing into a much bigger deal than it actually was. He was a good guy, but in Dean's opinion he tended to blow things out of proportion a lot. He'd probably see this as some sort of tragedy…

No, it was probably better not to say anything. But what to tell him when he finally asked?

As if the thought had summoned the question, a hesitant voice echoed through the silent room.

"Hey…Dean?"

Dean sighed inwardly. Here it came…

And then Kansas rang through the room—_Carry On, My Wayward Son, _which Dean had always found terribly ironic—and Dean breathed a sigh of relief as Sam fished his phone from his pocket.

"H'lo? Oh, hey, Ryo…" He listened for a moment, frowning, then nodded. "We'll be right there." He hung up and dropped the shirt he was folding on the bed, then turned to Dean. "We have to go."

"Why? What's goin' on _now_?"

"Dee went missing from the hospital."

* * *

AN: Well, it didn't take as long as I thought it would to get out! Unfortunately, I haven't even STARTED the book I have to read for my final, so the next chapter will probably take another little while to get out. Plus, I have very little idea where I'm going with this, so yeah…

But no matter what, this story will probably be finished in 2-3 chapters, counting the epilogue.

Oh, and by the way, on the subject of Morgan and Sari—they were featured in my story _In The Eyes of the Children_, so if you're curious, that's where you should go.

Now, _please_ review! I'd be very, very grateful!!! I _know_ a lot of people are disappointed in me for all the _Supernatural_ fics I've been writing, but seriously, I have _not_ given up on Yu Yu! I just don't have any _ideas_…

Now, if anybody has a _request_ for a Yu Yu fic, that'd be a different story…


	10. Chapter 9: Investigating

Anonymous/Mediaminer Reviewer(s):

Raven Black: Congratulations on the mom thing! That's so cool…kinda sucks about the moving, though. Or it would for me. I don't know about you. Anyways, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter as much!

* * *

"I swear this city is cursed," Dean muttered irritably, his eyes glued on the road as the Impala raced along. 

"Oh, yeah?" Sam replied absently, staring out at nothing, though he looked worried. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we can't _leave!"_ Dean snapped, taking a turn without braking. "The damn place won't let us _leave!"_

"You're being a little dramatic, don't you think? We've only been here a few days, and I _told_ you we'd be busy here…"

"Yeah, but that's not even _it!_ It's the fact that _every time_ we even_ say_ we're gonna leave, something happens. _Every single time!_ Now, how is that possible?!"

"Coincidence," Sam replied dismissively.

Dean shook his head. "That's _not_ coincidence. I know a curse when I see it, and this is a _curse_."

Sam rolled his eyes, but subsided with only a mutter of "Whatever."

Dean seemed to take the hint and didn't voice any more of his complaints, but his scowl didn't lighten in the least, and the Impala only sped up. In desperation, Sam fell back on his old solution to this kind of problem: complete reclusion into his own thoughts.

It was sometimes a difficult thing to do, ignoring Dean, but not tonight. Tonight, he had actual thoughts on his mind, and it didn't take much work to lose himself in them.

He had a horrible feeling that his vision was finally beginning to come true. In the back of his mind, he'd been worrying about why it wasn't yet coming to pass, even as he hoped it never would, that what he'd Seen had just been some sort of cosmic mistake. But now Dee had gone missing straight out of a crowded hospital, and as well as he masked it, Ryo was scared.

What that had to do with his vision of Ryo being shot, Sam wasn't sure, but the _feeling_ was strong, all the same. Something was _wrong_ here, and it was more than just the fact that Dee had supposedly "run off."

_Run off, ha…and Dad's Ward Cleaver…_

Sam hadn't known the two NYPD cops for long, but he'd always been a quick study, and he knew more about them than perhaps anyone realized. And he _knew_, for sure and certain, that Dee would never, not even for a second, _consider_ disappearing without so much as a phone call to Ryo. He _could_ have—as an NYPD cop he was probably more than able to sneak out—but he _wouldn't_.

And that left a very uncomfortable number of possibilities, each of which Sam now examined minutely.

Possibility one: Dee had been kidnapped.

Sam discarded that thought almost instantly, for the simple reason that there was absolutely no way to sneak an NYPD officer out of a crowded hospital unseen if that officer wasn't completely willing to go—especially one as stubborn as Dee obviously was.

Door number two: Dee _had_ left the hospital of his own accord, and had simply been unable to reach Ryo.

That one was more credible than the first, but Sam ended up dismissing it, too, after a few moments of contemplation. After all, Dee was definitely an adult. Why not just check out AMA, instead of taking the trouble and time to _sneak_ out? And also, Ryo seemed positively glued to both his phone and his pager—the latter for work and the former for personal use—so it wasn't likely that he had missed Dee's call. Plus, Dee had no car and no way to get home.

So, with those two ideas coming up zero, that left only one thing that Sam could think of—and it also happened to be the worst possibility of all.

There was a supernatural force at work here.

And if _this_ was the event that would begin the chain leading to his vision, Sam had a good idea of what kind of force it was.

His worry—and his headache—doubled at the thought.

XXX

Dee kept his eyes glued firmly to the road, using the dangerous speed at which he drove as an excuse not to permit himself to look at his brother. He already had once, just as they were getting into the car, and he hadn't liked what he saw. Sam looked healthy enough, but his eyes had that distant, preoccupied look that said he was brooding—and worrying. And as Dean watched, he'd reached up to rub at his head like he was doing more and more often nowadays.

Dean had been trying not to worry about his brother. He really had, and for a long time now. He didn't _like_ worrying, especially when it was about something he couldn't control. And he definitely couldn't control Sam's pain, or even do anything to help it. Hell, every time he _mentioned_ it, Sam avoided the whole subject, and the fact was, Sam was already doing all that could be done, popping pills whenever the pain got bad, which it always did after one of the visions…

Dean's mind turned swiftly to that subject, which had been hovering at the back of his mind since they'd come to New York.

Usually, Sam's visions tended to work themselves through soon after they arrived in whatever place they were supposed to be, and sometimes before that. But this time…this time nothing out of the ordinary was happening. And ordinarily, Dean would have been grateful for that. But now…

Now, something was bothering him. Sam seemed…restless. Inside his head. The pain wouldn't seem to _stop_. It just got worse as more time passed between the night of the vision and now. Like the end of that pain was contingent on either the completion of the vision or the prevention of it.

So…yep, Dean was fairly useless in _that_ area.

His eyes wandered over to Sam again, and before he snapped them back to the road he took more note of Sam than he had before.

He could practically _see_ the wheels turning in Sam's head as his brother examined all of the whys and wherefores of Dee Laytner's disappearance. He himself couldn't make heads or tails of it, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't be the same with Sam.

Why am I not more worried about this? 

The question occurred to him suddenly and without warning. Why _wasn't_ he concerned that a man he'd just begun getting to know had suddenly gone missing out of the hospital? He was _curious_, of course, but not exactly freaking out. In fact, he was feeling very little right now, except for the curiosity and irritation at the sheer amount of time they seemed to be spending here. God, he hated cities, ever since he'd met Morgan and Sari. He wanted out so bad…

_Okay, I'm horrible._

But he couldn't bring himself to _care_. Lately, he couldn't seem to bring himself to care about much of anything, other than the job, himself, and Sam.

Not only that, but part of him actually_ rejoiced_ in that new freedom.

And that frightened him more than he cared to admit.

XXX

Ryo had obviously switched to officer mode by the time the Winchesters hurried through the double doors of the main entrance to the hospital. Sam spotted him instantly—he was standing in front and a little to the side of the front desk, talking to a nurse. He looked fairly steady—in fact, he seemed calmer even than that creepy serenity that had descended upon him after the explosion. He wasn't at all pale this time, and there was no visible shaking. Then again—maybe that made sense. After all, Ryo was an NYPD officer, and this was his _thing_. He was in his element right now, and that tended to have quite the steadying effect.

Sam reached out to grab onto Dean's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He shook his head when Dean glanced at him, and they hung back, just out of earshot, until the nurse moved away—presumably to go back to her rounds—and Ryo beckoned them over with a tired half-smile.

"Hey," he said when they came over. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…you called us," Sam said hesitantly.

"I did?" Ryo asked. "Did I say why?"

Sam felt a little stab of concern—maybe Ryo _wasn't_ as okay as he looked. He sounded…wrong, somehow. "Uh…you just told me that Dee was missing from the hospital."

"Did I ask you to come?"

"No, but we did anyway."

"Huh…I can't figure out why on earth I would call you…I don't even _know_ you, really…" Then he shrugged. "Well, anyway, thanks for coming."

"No problem. Wanna tell us what happened?"

Ryo sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall, brushing a hand through his hair. "That's just it—no one _knows_. He was…fine…when I left, and apparently he was still fine five minutes later when his night nurse went on shift and came to check on him. But by her next check, the room was empty. No one saw him leave, and there hasn't been a trace since. He's just…gone."

"Did you call your precinct?" Sam asked, and managed not to flush when Dean stared at him. _Well, it's a valid question if we haven't completely ruled out an actual kidnapping…_

"Yeah," Ryo replied. "Drake and JJ will probably be here sometime in the next half-hour or so—they're the only ones at the precinct, so they'll have to get another team in before they can leave, which means _finding_ a team that isn't out on some sort of date or something. And then they'll have to come up with a good bribe. They could be a while…"

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw his brother twitch at the first name, and he almost smiled. But he managed to hide it at the last minute, luckily.

"Okay." Sam cut off the babbling, and then paused for a second, but no more, before he came up with a plan to make _his_ plan work. "Dean, why don't you go…_question_…the rest of the staff?"

As Sam had expected, Dean picked up his real meaning instantly, and went off to ask the _right_ questions, to eliminate one possibility or another.

"Oh…I should do that…not him…he's not licensed to carry a gun…" Ryo murmured, watching Dean go.

_I don't even want to figure that one out,_ Sam thought. "No, it's okay. He's good at getting information. Come on, you should sit for a minute…catch your breath…"

"Okay…yeah, sitting's good…Barbara Walters sits…but only five minutes…then I should get…back to work here…"

Sam got him safely into a chair, then took the seat next to him. He didn't particularly want to do this _right_ now, with Ryo sounding like he did, but there wasn't much for it, and Ryo wasn't telling him anything.

"Ryo…"

"Hmm?" Ryo asked distantly, staring down the hall in the opposite direction.

"Ryo…hey…eyes on me, Ryo…" Ryo's eyes wandered to him, and after making sure he had at least part of the man's attention, Sam went on. "Ryo, what aren't you telling us right now?"

"Huh?"

"About Dee. You're keeping _something_ to yourself, and I need to know what."

"But why? You're not a cop…"

"Yeah, I know. But you need to talk to me anyway. Trust me. It's important."

"_Really_ important? Like, really, _really_ important?"

"Yes."

Ryo sighed. "Everything?"

Sam nodded. "_Everything_."

XXX

By the time their talk was interrupted by the arrival of Ryo's fellow cops from the 27th Precinct, Sam had extracted every useful bit of information from Ryo, and he felt quite satisfied that nothing more was being withheld.

However, before Sam could begin sorting through this knew knowledge, a loud, oddly-pitched voice rang through the corridor. "_RYO!"_

A second after the echo died away, JJ Adams ran up to them, followed by his partner, Drake. JJ began to babble the second he reached them, speaking so fast his words ran together.

"Ryowhathappened? What'sgoingon? Where'sDee? Haveyoufoundhimyet? Has_anyone_seenhim? What—"

"JJ, take a breath."

The four quiet words from Drake did what hadn't before seemed possible. JJ fell abruptly silent and actually gave someone else a chance to speak. Drake smiled and put a hand on the thin shoulder, then took the reigns of the conversation himself.

"What happened, Ryo?"

So, Ryo explained, in as few words as possible, while JJ and Drake listened intently. So intently, in fact, that it seemed to Sam that he'd been forgotten entirely, which was perfectly find with him, since Dean chose that exact moment to return. Sam took another moment to make sure no one was paying attention, then slipped away and went to join his brother.

"Well?" he murmured in a low voice, as he reached Dean.

Dean replied in the same tone. "I talked to every nurse who was on rounds when Dee disappeared. At first they all said the same thing they'd told Ryo. But when I started asking them the other questions, they got these…looks. So I leaned a little, and they finally said they _did_ notice something. They all felt this weird…vibe…whenever they went into Dee's room. Like someone was watching them. They all pinned it down to paranoia, but there is _not_ that much paranoia to go around."

Sam nodded in agreement. "But they didn't actually _see_ anything?"

"Nothing…solid," Dean said slowly.

"But someone did see _something_," Sam hazarded from Dean's tone.

"Well, one girl said that as she was leaving Dee's room, she saw something out of the corner of her eye—this dark shape. She said it seemed…insubstantial, I think was the word she used."

"Like…mist or something?"

"I dunno, sure. Anyway, it was gone by the time she looked, and she wrote it off. Used the whole 'just a trick of the eyes' excuse. God, that gets so old after awhile…" Then she shrugged. "What about you? Anything?"

Sam glanced over at Ryo, who was still talking to JJ and Drake with an intensity that reminded him oddly of Dean when he was questioning someone, then looked back at his brother and nodded. "Mm-hmm. Apparently, Ryo and Dee had a fight right before Ryo left for Sister Maria's."

Dean looked slightly interested, but not exactly spellbound. "Lover's spat, huh? Bad?"

"He insisted that it wasn't at first, but when I pushed him, he finally admitted that, yeah, Dee said some not-so-nice things. He wouldn't tell me what, but…it was bad, Dean." As he said it, a wisp of a thought crept through his mind, but before he could pin it down and slid frustratingly out of reach and went to rest in the back of his mind, where he absolutely could not reach it.

"Why does all this seem so familiar to me…?" Dean asked, in an unconscious echo of his thoughts. The older hunter contemplated for a while, then let out a frustrated growl. "That's _annoying_."

Sam sighed. "Yeah." There was silence between them for a moment, then let out another, smaller sigh, just as Drake reached out to pat Ryo gently on the shoulder, and moved away with Drake. He seized the opening and headed for Ryo immediately, Dean following in his wake.

Ryo looked at him blankly for a moment before giving himself a slight shake and murmuring, "Drake and JJ are gonna take over…you guys should go…if you want to leave early you should get some sleep…"

Sam rolled his eyes and completely ignored the last half. "Okay, so they've got things well at hand, then. You should go home—" He waved a hand as Ryo protested, vehemently and almost angrily, and went on in a cool, matter-of-fact voice. "You're not gonna be much use in a little while, Ryo. You're in serious danger of keeling over whether you realize it or not. I'm not asking for a solid night's sleep, but just lay down for a _couple_ of hours. You'll be able to help a lot more that way."

He didn't _want_ to talk to Ryo like that, as if he was a three-year-old, but this wasn't the time to mince words.

"Go home, Ryo." This time he said it forcefully, which seemed to penetrate Ryo's shock-induced stupidity.

"Home? Bikky's at home…I forgot to call him…he's gonna be real mad…"

"Yeah…okay…so you'll go?"

Ryo turned and walked slowly toward the door without another word.

Sam leaned over and murmured to his brother, "Follow him. Point out doors and windows. I'm gonna go let Drake and JJ know I'm taking him home. He _really_ shouldn't drive right now…anyway, just get him into his car. I'll meet you back at the motel."

XXX

Ryo was seeing things through a pleasant haze as he walked into his and Dee's place fifteen minutes later, hoping distantly that he wasn't stumbling. Bikky looked up from the magazine he was flipping boredly through, tossing it aside and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Where ya been?"

Ryo took hope from the flat voice that he _didn't_ look like he felt, but it was crushed when Bikky took a more careful look, and frowned.

"Oh, hell, what's wrong?"

XXX

Sam turned off his laptop and closed it with enough force that it made a very audible _click_, but not quite hard enough to break it. He set the useless thing on the nightstand and got out of bed all in one smooth movement.

Dean slid the knife he was sharpening back into its sheath, and put it away. "Anything?" he asked, stretching lazily.

"Of course not," Sam snapped as he headed for the bathroom. "Just the feeling that I _have_ the answer, but it won't _come!"_

He was very loud at the end, and Dean raised an eyebrow. "This is really bugging you," he observed.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Your powers of observation never cease to amaze," he replied waspishly, ducking into the bathroom before Dee could reply.

He thought on the problem through his shower, while he brushed his teeth, while he assured Dean one more time that he was fairly certain there _wasn't_ a curse on the city, and he was still thinking on it when he laid down to sleep after setting his alarm to wake him in five hours so that he could call Ryo.

This was one of the most annoying things he'd ever felt. All the answers to this mystery were in the back of his mind, curled up and asleep, and they refused to wake and form themselves into actual, worded ideas. He knew the answers, but he didn't _know_ them….

But even the irritation of the feeling and the building pressure in his head weren't enough to keep him awake and alert for long. He was completely exhausted, and he still had to get up in four and a half hours and try to take care of them so he and Dean could get back on the road.

The thought only exhausted him further, and he sternly ordered his mind to keep silent so that he could sleep. It obeyed, reluctantly, and the inside of his head became mercifully silent, though the pressure didn't go away. Actually…didn't he _recognize_ that pressure? It seemed like he should, but he was too tired to figure it out…

He was almost asleep when the vision hit.

_It was a repeat of the vision he'd had a few days ago, which was just weird. It was exactly the same, only now he recognized the two people. He was back in that alleyway in exactly the same "spot" and as usual he was frozen in place, unable to move. He "watched" as the exact same thing happened as in the last vision, from Ryo's words to the moment the bullet left the gun, and he couldn't imagine why he was "back."_

_And then his "eyes" were inexplicably drawn to Dee's face, and he felt a thrill of horror._

With no warning, he fell back into himself with a jolt.

The first thing he noticed was that he was on the floor, and he realized distantly that he must have fallen out of bed. He felt a firm, careful touch on his shoulders, and then he was being pulled into a sitting position and propped up against something straight and hard. The touch remained on his shoulders, and he leaned his head back against the wooden thing and breathed deeply, willing his head to stop hurting, and his mind to steady itself.

Once the images faded from his closed eyes, and once he was relatively sure that the ache in his head wasn't quite going to kill him this time, either, he opened his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak as soon as he saw Dean hovering over them, his face impassive but his eyes holding a mix of anger and concern. "Dean—"

The older Winchester gave his shoulder a squeeze, then stood up and turned to rummage in the drawer.

"Dean—"

Dean still didn't answer, just turned back, and Sam saw that he was shaking two pills out of Sam's bottle, and having a fairly difficult time with it.

"Dean, forget those," Sam said, but his voice sounded faint even to him, because God, he wanted those painkillers. He found himself taking the two pills and swallowing them before Dean could get him a water bottle. "Now will you listen to me?" he asked impatiently, fighting back the nausea that sometimes followed the visions. "Dean!"

Dean finally turned away from the bag he was rummaging through, looking for a bottle, and Sam took the opening and plunged into his explanation.

"Dean, I _know _now, okay? I know what this is…"

XXX

Bikky disappeared silently into his room after Ryo explained the whole thing to him. The telling of it had also been quiet, with Ryo talking flatly and calmly and Bikky listening without a word. Then, when Ryo had trailed off, he had simply said, "I'm gonna kill him."

This was not what Ryo had expected, and he displayed his surprise openly. But Bikky remained stubbornly determined to murder Dee for disappearing again, and nothing could persuade him that Dee was anything less than a complete idiot for allowing it to happen. So finally, Ryo had subsided and wisely did nothing while his son continued to vent his anger and worry.

Finally, Bikky had finished swearing, and then he had turned and said, very calmly, "Are you all right?"

Ryo had seriously considered telling the truth then, had been sorely tempted to break down on someone else's shoulder for a change. And Bikky's concern was real—he seriously wanted a true answer. But…no. He forced the compulsion down with an inward sigh. He was an adult, and Bikky was his teenaged son.

_Who's already seen more than you did before you hit twenty, you dolt…_

Ryo silenced the inner voice sternly, and smiled wanly. "I'm okay, Biks. Thanks."

But now, in the privacy of his own room, behind a closed door, Ryo lowered the shields, and allowed himself five minutes, and no more.

Once the shaking had subsided and the tears stopped, Ryo straightened, stepping away from the support of the wall, wiped his eyes, and headed into his and Dee's bathroom as calmly as he could.

By the time he finished showering and brushing his teeth, he was completely calm—on the outside. On the inside, he roiled and whirled and was altogether a mess, but the important thing was, he didn't show it, even to his mirror.

He let out a sigh as he turned off the bathroom light, and walked over to his bed. He probably wouldn't sleep, he reflected, sliding under the blankets, but Sam was right—he would be worse than useless if he didn't get some…

"AAAHHH!"

Ryo didn't scream loudly—he was about to, but everything in him urged him into quiet. But he still cried out, and scrambled out of bed, facing the opposite wall with wide eyes, at the man who was revealed only as a darker shape against the black of the room. Fumbling slightly, he reached for his lamp and flipped it on without taking his eyes off the figure.

Dee smiled at him, looking highly amused. "Gee, Ryo, are you surprised?"

Ryo just stared in silence. He wanted, so badly, to run across the room and fling himself at Dee, but something held him back. Something wasn't right…

"Well?" Dee asked. "What's wrong, Ryo?"

The voice…it just didn't sound like Dee. It was too smooth, too cool, too sardonically amused. And the smile that spread across Dee's face wasn't right, either. It held only more amusement, and no comfort. Nor was the posture the one Ryo knew—instead of the tension and vigilance that their lifestyle enforced, Dee showed only utter indolence as he lounged against the wall, arms folded. He looked absolutely and completely…posed.

In short, there was absolutely nothing of the man Ryo loved in this person.

"Ryo? What? Why are you staring?"

Still Ryo didn't speak. He couldn't.

_What is _happening_ here…?_

"So you're not gonna talk to me, huh?" Dee asked. When Ryo still didn't answer, he gave an affected little sigh and pushed himself away from the wall, coming lazily over. "Don't you even want to know what happened to me?"

Ryo forced himself to remain absolutely still as Dee placed a work-roughened hand on his jaw, and a thumb traced across his cheek. But inside, he cringed away in revulsion. This felt so…

"Come on, lover. Talk to me."

Wrong. Ryo shivered, but not in the way he usually shivered when Dee was this close.

The other man chuckled lowly, and the hand dropped to Ryo's shoulder.

"So you don't want to talk. Well, I suppose I can understand. After all…I'm not who you think I am. I never have been."

And then, suddenly, the hands tightened in a vice-like grip, and Ryo found himself pulled into a rough and violent kiss that held absolutely no love or anything similar.

Before Ryo could gather himself to put up a fight, though, the lips left his, and a voice whispered next to his ear.

"Let the games begin, lover."

Ryo had no idea what happened, but next second the man-who-wasn't-Dee was gone. The door didn't open, and neither did the window. He was just gone, with no trace that he'd ever been there.

He was still standing, stunned, in exactly the same spot when his cell rang ten minutes later.

* * *

AN: Sorry, nothing conclusive here. This was more another set-up chapter than anything else. I hate them, but they're important. Anyways, we're approaching the end here, people! I estimate another 2-3 chapters before it's over. 

Okay, you've done the reading thing. If things follow their natural order, one could conclude that it's time to review. Right? …Please?


	11. Chapter 10: Answers

Dean was actually a little surprised that he was able to drive as well as he was right now. He and Sam were running on empty, and the clock was approaching midnight, and yet here they were, back in the car, the time headed for Ryo's apartment. And he didn't even know _why_, really—once again, Sam had just said they had to go, and given very little explanation.

In his brother's defense, though, Dean was pretty sure he wasn't being left in the dark on purpose. Sam was simply too deep in his own thoughts to really think about anything else. He probably didn't even realize he was holding anything back. Like right now, for instance—he was leaning against the window, head all pressed up against the glass, probably to ease the pain in his head, his face inscrutable.

"You okay?"

Sam started slightly and half-turned. "Oh…yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"'Cause you don't look like it."

"…Oh," was all Sam said, before turning back to the window.

_Uh…okay…that was weird and…unresponsive…_

He had never seen Sam like this—so unfocused and off-balance. Well, actually, he was usually that way for a few minutes after a vision, but never this long. And the visions themselves were getting more intense, too—as far as Dean knew, Sam had never actually ended up flat on the floor after one of the episodes.

So, the bottom line was, whatever was pulling Sam's puppet strings was stepping things up.

_God, this sucks_.

XXX

The first thing Ryo did when he opened the door was shush them into silence. With a hissed whisper that indicated that Bikky was probably asleep, he beckoned them to follow him, and led the way to his room.

"What happened?" Sam asked as soon as the door was closed behind him.

"He was here," Ryo replied, sitting on the bed and pulling himself up to the headboard, wrapping his arms around his denim-covered knees.

"Who?"

"He came…when I was about to go to sleep," Ryo said distantly, staring off into space.

"Ryo, who was here?" Sam asked gently.

"He…he told me he wasn't who I thought he was…and then he kissed me…"

"Dee?" That one was Dean this time.

"Ryo, was Dee here?" Sam asked.

"_No_," Ryo said vehemently, suddenly very much focused.

"So it _wasn't_ Dee."

"_Yes,"_ Ryo replied.

"Yes, it wasn't, or yes, it was?"

"_Both_."

"Well, I'm confused," Dean said off-handedly.

"Ryo, please, you have to work with us here if you want us to help," Sam said, still in that same gentle, coaxing voice.

Ryo hesitated for a second, then nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Good. Now tell us what happened."

"…I already did."

Sam bit down on his frustration, reminding himself that Ryo was _not_ being intentionally difficult.

"All right, let's try it bit-by-bit. Who, exactly, was here, Ryo?"

"Dee. But…but it wasn't Dee, it _wasn't_..." He spoke quietly, but his voice was tinged with desperation, and he looked up at them suddenly. "Was it?"

Dean honestly had no idea how to answer that. Hell, he was still waiting for Sam to give _him_ the heads up, and he felt a surge of resentment when Sam leaned against the wall and casually gave _Ryo_ the explanation that he didn't even see fit to share with his own brother.

"No, Ryo, it wasn't. I promise you, _Dee_ would never scare you like you've obviously been scared."

The tension in Ryo's shoulders didn't lessen, but his head dropped forward until his forehead touched his knees, and he breathed a long, shaky sigh. Then he looked up, and only then did the Winchesters notice the redness of his eyes. But his tone was perfectly steady when he spoke. "Was it another shapeshifter?"

Again, Sam shook his head, and again, Dean stayed silent while he waited for answers.

"No…I don't think so…actually, I'm sure of it. Shapeshifters…they just…their eyes don't _do_ that…"

Ryo looked quickly at him, his gaze shrewd enough to make _Dean_ uncomfortable, and Ryo wasn't even facing him. Sam, though, barely noticed.

"It doesn't matter how I know what he looked like. The point is, I know he wasn't a shapeshifter. It was a demon."

Dean snapped to attention, and Sam knew _he_ recognized the significance. But Ryo just looked puzzled—well, to the extent that he seemed to be feeling anything right now.

"Isn't that what a shapeshifter is?"

"No. Shapeshifters…well, the easiest…the simplest…way to explain it is that they're humans, but usually horribly deformed, hated to the point where they just…learn to become someone else. But a demon uses already-established bodies, taking over the actual _soul_, with the person completely unable to do anything about it. And their power is _extreme_..."

When his voice trailed off and didn't pick up again, Dean pushed himself away from the wall, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and speaking up for the first time. "What kind is it? What's the story? Yeah, he's being the same way with me," he added at Ryo's half-voiced question.

Sam ignored that last bit—or maybe he just didn't hear it. "I'm not sure of _everything_ yet—it's gonna take some research—but…well, we were right, Dean. We _have_ heard of something like this before. We haven't _fought_ it, but we have heard of it. It's in Dad's journal, I'm almost sure…"

Once again, he fell silent, and Dean nearly screamed with impatience. "Sammy, I love ya and all, but man, if you don't stop doing that I'm gonna kill ya dead."

"…What?"

"_Talk_, little brother!"

"Oh…well, like I said, I don't know all the facts. I've only skimmed the journal a few thousand times, after all. But I think I _do_ know why he picked Dee."

"You're not gonna do the quiet thing again, are you?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I have an easier time getting information out of mass murderers," Ryo said, with just a touch of humor.

Sam glared at them both, and said curtly, "It appears as a black mist, and it feeds on guilt. That's what attracted it to Dee in the first place. It must have come after your fight."

"But…but if it's attracted to guilt, why aren't there more…incidents? I mean…guilt is a pretty common thing…"

"Yes, but it takes _great_ amounts—and probably exactly the wrong circumstances—to make it happen. Dee must have been in agony…" After another beat of silence, Sam sighed. "But the problem is, I don't know anything more, and I don't know how to get it out of him."

"_What_?" Ryo's voice rang through the room before he stifled himself, and he slid down the headboard a little, his face white.

"Don't worry," Dean said quickly, a little alarmed. "We'll figure it out."

"But we can't do that here," Sam added. "We need to get back to the motel. And Ryo, you two have to come with us, obviously. I don't think he'll be back tonight, but it's probably best not to take chances."

Ryo didn't seem surprised by this, but he didn't seem at all happy about it either, and later, the reason became clear as Ryo groaned softly.

"Oh, God in Heaven, what am I supposed to tell Bikky?"

XXX

Dean and Sam waited in the living room while Ryo woke his son. It didn't take more than a minute, so apparently he hadn't said anything about the situation yet. Bikky came out with none of the grouchiness in his expression expected in a kid who'd just been woken up in the middle of the night. Rather, he looked worried, and a little freaked out. His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his long blond bangs, when he saw the Winchesters, but then he visibly stifled his questions.

_So _that's_ coming_.

The drive back to the motel was absolutely silent. Ryo sat in the back with his arm around Bikky, who stared out the window with an inscrutable expression. The quiet didn't bother Sam—actually, it was rather relaxing—but it made Dean extremely uncomfortable, and they didn't go two miles before he turned on his Zeppelin. No one in the car reacted to the sudden noise blasting from the speakers—Sam was too used to it to care, and Ryo and Bikky didn't even seem to take note of it—though Sam noted that the latter absently began to bob his head in time to the music, swaying back and forth without seeming to realize he was doing it.

Dean was a little surprised at Ryo's silence. The young cop must be brimming with questions and fears—he was probably scared to death. And besides that, there was no way he could fully comprehend the things he'd been exposed to. In Dean's experience, people who didn't understand what the Winchesters did never _ceased_ to ask questions, but Ryo wasn't voicing a single one. He was just sitting there in the backseat, staring out the window, as if only his body was in the car, and the important parts of him were somewhere else entirely.

Now, on the one hand, the silence was a welcome change from the panicked—and often unanswerable—questions they _usually_ got. But then again, it was slightly eerie, in that it indicated that Ryo was taking this _calmly_. And…well, come to think of it, he seemed to take _everything_ calmly. Like he couldn't be rattled, no matter what he saw. Like there was nothing inside…

_Okay, that's it. We need to finish this thing, ASAP. I have _got_ go get out of here before I start spewing poetry or something…_

As if responding to his thoughts, the Impala sped up with double her usual ease.

XXX

Sam entered the motel first, and headed straight for his laptop, which was set up on their small table, John's journal resting next to it. Dean knew how to use them both, but Sam…Sam could find absolutely _anything_ in either one or the other. That, combined with the fact that he had a knack for finding exactly what they needed—nothing more, nothing less—and his seemingly endless patience with research in general, meant that he was usually the one who did most of that work during their hunts.

"You guys can take that bed," Dean told Ryo and Bikky over his shoulder as they swallowed the younger Winchester in, pointing to the bed closest to the wall and furthest from the door. That was usually Sam's bed—Dean _always_ slept nearest the wall—but Sam wouldn't care if he had to share with Dean. Of course, it was entirely possible that he wouldn't go to bed at all tonight…

"Thank you," Ryo said quietly, sitting down with his back against the headboard.

Bikky took the other spot, but he didn't relax even as much as Ryo allowed himself to. Instead, he sat cross-legged, facing the cop, and said, "Okay, Ryo, what's going on?"

If Ryo winced, it was purely internal, and Dean shrugged when the other man looked over at him. "Your kid, your decision."

"And don't lie. You can only lie at work, or when one of us has a gun to our head," Bikky added, sounding way too experienced in the matter.

Ryo smiled wanly, and held out a hand. Bikky took it without hesitation, and let Ryo squeeze it until both their knuckles turned white. "You always could read me like a book."

"I think most anyone can," Bikky replied lightly, but his eyes were the opposite of light. "Come on, Ryo. This is you and me. I'm your _son_. Tell me what's going on with you."

And Ryo did. He told Bikky what was going on, and what _had_ gone on. He even talked about the shapeshifter that had led to his meeting the Winchesters, which apparently he'd never told Bikky about. Dean laid back in his bed and closed his eyes, listening carefully.

"So basically Dee's gone evil and that's why we're here," Bikky said when Ryo finished. His tone was completely flat, and Dean opened his eyes and glanced over at the teen. Bikky had shifted at some point during the talk, and now he was facing Ryo fully, one leg dangling over the side of the bed and the other pulled up to his chest, his chin resting on it as he looked at Ryo. When Ryo nodded at his summary, Bikky didn't say anything for a long time, and Dean could almost feel Ryo's apprehension as a physical thing.

Then Bikky dropped his arms from his knees, sat up, and shrugged. "Okay."

"Um…beg pardon?" Ryo asked politely.

Bikky rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Ryo. What did you think I was gonna say? That maybe you should take a long vacation? That maybe the job is finally getting to you? That it sounds crazy? Because in case you've forgotten, _I'm_ the one who is always telling _you_ about ghosts and stuff."

"Well…well, yeah, but…" Ryo said, trailing off uncertainly.

"But nothing. This is New York City. Weirdness is a way of life here. I've lived here my whole life, and I've seen things. I just never told you how much, basically because that stuff's done for me…over." He shrugged, and it was astonishing how truly indifferent he was, and in spite of himself, Dean was impressed. Then, quite suddenly, Bikky turned on _him_, and asked, "So what do _you_ guys have to do with all this?"

Dean was a little disconcerted by the directness of the question and the unflinching stare, but Sam—who was, after all, staring intently at his computer screen and therefore impervious to direct questions and unflinching stares—answered easily. "We're working for your dad."

"Dude, you're _paying_ them?" Bikky asked incredulously.

"Uh…no, not exactly…" Ryo replied, a little uncomfortably. "Am I supposed to be paying you?"

Dean shrugged. "Why bother? No one else does. Then again, I guess it isn't really the type of gig that pays."

"But what do you _do_?" Bikky asked insistently. "Like, what's your _job_?"

Sam had gone back to staring at the computer, so this one was left to poor Dean, who was afraid of kids of all kinds, especially the ones that tended to ask awkward questions.

"Well…uh…we…" Dean cast a slightly desperate look at his brother, but Sam was turning a page in the journal and didn't notice. "We hunt," he finished the sentence at last. "Things like…like this. Demons and spirits and stuff."

"Like…Ghostbusters?"

Dean must have looked physically pained or something, because Bikky looked sheepish. "Uh…sorry. Okay, so you hunt…like…evil?"

"To put it really simply, yeah."

"And you kill things?"

"If we can. Sometimes we just have to be satisfied with sending them away."

"Okay. And how does one discover a talent for this?"

_Sammy, _please_ get me out of this conversation…_ "Um…I don't think you really do. We've always just…done it." _Now _please_ don't ask any more questions._

Bikky, however, did not seem interested in heeding the silent warning, because he went right on talking, to ask one more thing.

"Is it fun?"

Thank God Sam chose that moment to start paying attention and turned around, because otherwise Dean would have done one of two things: strangled the poor kid, or ran screaming from the room.

But, no, Sam turned right around in his chair, abandoning his research, and fixed Bikky with the Sam Winchester thousand-yard stare. This was a look that only Sam could adequately perform—like his puppy eyes, it was something that neither Dean nor their father had ever been able to imitate. However, unlike the puppy eyes—which Dean had been on the receiving end of all too frequently—Sam rarely used the thousand-yard stare against his family.

Watching Sam stare at poor, unfortunate Bikky, Dean thought that maybe it _was_ too bad that Sam never became a lawyer. If that Look were released upon a defenseless mass murderer…

Well, the _human_ evil would be seriously cut down, anyway.

Bikky squirmed uncomfortably under the weight of Sam's gaze, and Dean tried not to smirk. It was mean to laugh at someone else's pain, but…but this was _funny_! And besides, it would be interesting to see which one of them cracked first.

"Oh…okay…uh…not fun, then…um…I hafta…excuse me…"

And with this rather confused jumble of words, Bikky leapt to his feet and practically ran into the bathroom, distinguishable by being the only other room in the place.

"Jeez, Sam," Dean said, as the bathroom door closed. "How do you _do_ that?"

"_What_ did you do? You freaked out _my son_," Ryo murmured, but he didn't look angry. Actually, he looked perilously close to amusement. "I didn't know that was even _possible_…"

Sam just shrugged, without the slightest change of expression, and turned back to the task at hand.

XXX

It was almost three hours before Bikky dropped reluctantly off to sleep, and Ryo didn't fall asleep at all. He stubbornly refused to allow himself that luxury—not until they found a way to help Dee. Dean stopped arguing with him after a while—Sam was singularly unhelpful and stubbornly silent—and just let the young cop wallow in his own thoughts. Dean himself spent quite a bit of time trying to get Sam to take a break and get some sleep in the only available bed, but Sam kept saying "no." Nothing else…just a quiet "no." But he popped pills from the bottle in his pocket like it was going out of style, and that was how Dean was able to figure it out.

Sam was hurting. They were coming closer and closer to his vision, and he was hurting because of it. So, naturally, he was cranky—and, naturally, it was probably safest to leave him be.

But Dean wasn't interested in safety.

"Sam, come on, you're not helping anyone by killing yourself—"

Sam scowled, but kept his voice down, quieter than the almost-muted TV Ryo had on in a rather sad attempt to distract himself. "Dean, stop being so dramatic and leave me alone. I don't want to sleep."

"Well, then it's a good thing I don't care what you want right now. _You have to get a little sleep_, man!"

"No, what I _have_ to do is get this research done so we can finish this and make my damn headache go away!" Sam snapped, losing a little control over his tightly-reined-in temper.

Dean stared at him for a long time, then sighed in defeat and growled, "Whatever, Sammy," then stomped back over to the bed and threw himself down on it, closing his eyes, because, hey, he could still _listen_ for trouble…

XXX

"Dean. Dean…_wake up_, damnit…DEAN!"

_Thump_.

"Gyah! I'm up, jeez! _What_?"

Sam rolled his eyes from where he sat at the foot of the bed, the position from which he'd just launched a pillow-missile at his soundly-sleeping brother. On the other side of the small room, Ryo was still sitting at the foot of the other bed, flipping through channels boredly. Dean couldn't believe he hadn't fallen asleep.

"I've figured it out."

Sam kept his voice down as he said this—actually, he was barely speaking above a whisper—but he may as well have shouted, the way Ryo reacted, shooting up off the bed and leaping over to them with the agility of a cat. He settled himself on the bed and gave Sam a look so hopeful that it was almost heartbreaking.

Sam reached out and gave his shoulder a pat, then dropped his hand and began whispering his discoveries in an urgent voice while Bikky slept obliviously on.

He talked for a long time, telling everything he'd found out about their quarry. Not surprisingly, he'd been correct about his the demon thing. But that was where all predictability came to an end, because, basically, this demon was a serious rebel. It followed none of the "rules" that other creatures did and was basically an enigma to someone like—oh, say, _Dean_—who was used to having things follow set and exact patterns.

So, the older Winchester was understandably surprised when his brother painted a tale, not of some random, nameless evil crawling out of the primordial ooze bent on causing mayhem and destruction, but the story of…a man. A human man in his mid-twenties who seemed absolutely normal. This man had lived among the Greeks way back when they'd basically run the Earth, so the fact that he had a boyfriend wasn't exactly out of the ordinary.

Anyway, this young man—whose name had long since been lost in history—had supposedly been deeply, _deeply_ in love with this other guy, and apparently his feelings had been returned tenfold, and for a while things seemed to be going perfectly. But sadly, that isn't often the way the world works, and the simplest things can bring your whole world to a crashing halt.

To this day, no one had been able to figure out exactly what brought the argument on. The sad part was, it was probably a tiny thing, easily forgotten—and certainly no reason to take a knife and _stick it in your lover's heart_.

But that was exactly what the demon—then just a man—had done, just hours before he went and used the ancient dark magics to demonize himself—a ritual that, apparently, had not been attempted—let alone completed successfully—before or since.

"So it appears that 'normal' was actually code for 'stark, raving mad,' and now he's going around taking over peoples' bodies—if the circumstances are right—and forcing him to basically relive that moment, keeping everything except the weapon—which seems to change with the times—the same. I guess you two just…provided the right circumstances with your fight," Sam concluded.

Dean leaned back against the headboard of their bed, turning the new information over in his mind. "Okay. Then why _only_ when a person feels guilty or whatever? I mean, if this demon is going after the fingerprints of what it was feeling when it…turned…then wouldn't it go after _anger_?"

Sam shrugged. "Not if all it was feeling at the time was guilt. That may even be the _reason_ he changed himself—to escape the guilt. I don't know. I don't want to get into his mind any more than you do."

"Does it even _matter_?" Ryo burst out suddenly, and it was obvious he'd been trying so hard _not_ to ask that it had finally just exploded out of him. But he didn't shout—fatherly instinct kept him speaking quietly. "I mean, have you figured out what we're going to _do_?"

Sam looked at him for a moment, then sighed and said, "Yes. I have a solution. But you're not gonna like it."

* * *

AN: Yeah, I know. I haven't updated in a while. I have no excuse. I suck. I am crabby. Review, please. That is all. 


	12. Chapter 11: Working the Plan

"I don't like it."

Dean threw the bolt home, locking the door firmly as he spoke. Then he turned back to Sam, wearing an expression of clear disapproval.

"No, I don't like it at all," Dean continued, when Sam simply shoved his hands into his pockets and didn't answer.

"Why?" Sam asked calmly.

"_Why?_ Are you freakin' _kidding_ me?"

Sam shrugged. "Look, Dean, I _know_ it sucks. This whole thing sucks. But it might be the only way to get all of them out of this alive."

"Well, sure, if everything goes _exactly_ the way you want it to. And I've never _heard_ of a plan where so many things could go wrong."

"Yeah, but…well, at least we _know_ Ryo won't get killed. Well, unless he has weak bones or something."

"Okay. Ryo won't die. That's all to the good. But that's pretty much the only sure thing. I mean, what if this demon decides to ignore the pain, or whatever, and stick around to finish off Dee? What if it figures out what _we're_ the threat? Hell, what if none of it even _works_? I mean, you said it yourself—this thing is _not_ like other demons. Maybe it doesn't even _follow_ these rules—"

"Dean."

That was all Sam said. Just "Dean." But it was enough to silence the elder Winchester, and nothing more needed.

"I know this plan has flaws. I _know_, okay? But it's the only thing I've got."

_That_ got Dean's full attention, and, seeing that, Sam took it and ran with it.

"I'm just as out of my depth here as you are. _I've_ never seen anything like this, either, and if _you_ don't know how to take care of this—you being Dad's protégé and all—then how the hell am _I_ supposed to? I don't _have_ a backup plan here, Dean—"

"Well, if _that's_ not proof that this city is cursed, I dunno what is."

"—But I want to protect them. _All_ of them. And if we do this right, we can _do_ that."

Sam had been speaking with all the urgency of a lawyer in a courtroom, and in the end, he didn't need Dean's nod and grunt of reluctant assent to know that he'd won.

"So what are you gonna tell Mother?" Bikky asked as he and Ryo walked slowly up to the church, where Dean and Sam had dropped them off. Sam had explained his plan on the way, and even as he spoke Bikky was trying to quiet his unease.

The arm that wasn't around Bikky lifted in a shrug. "I have no idea. She always knows when I'm lying, but she'll have a heart attack if I tell her the _truth._"

"So we're just gonna wing it?"

Ryo paused for a moment, for a reason Bikky couldn't fathom, before he replied. "Yes, Bikky, we're just gonna wing it."

His words were very soft, and he placed the smallest emphasis on the word "we." And when Bikky looked up at him, he was smiling.

It was only a very small smile, but it was a start.

XXX

_We_.

Ryo had no idea why that small, so-simple word affected him the way it did—why it made the corners of his mouth turn up, just slightly, and caused his sinking heart to rise from his ankles to the general vicinity of his knees. It wasn't _much_ of a lift, but his spirits had been so low that he felt the difference deeply. His arm tightened around his son in silent gratitude that Bikky would probably feel, but wouldn't understand. After all, _Ryo_ didn't understand it, so why should Bikky?

He was still thinking about it as he reached out and rang the bell, but all thoughts flew from his mind as Maria opened the door after a two-minute wait.

The moments after Maria opened the door were a blur. Later, Ryo would try to remember them, and come up with nothing except a white face, a quick intake of breath, soft murmurs of what might have been prayer…and then he and Bikky were settled on Maria's couch, and the fog cleared.

Ryo had never quite understood the old nun's ability to seemingly pick the thoughts right out of his head, but she demonstrated it now, taking one long, searching look at his face and saying, "It's Dee, isn't it?"

Ryo nodded wordlessly, and Maria closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again. "Dear God, is he…?"

"No, Mother. No," Ryo replied, almost instantly, though he wasn't quite sure how to define exactly _what_ Dee was. Still, he knew the answer was the right one when Maria folded for just a moment, her hands coming up to cover her face, the relief radiating from her.

But the moment was over before Ryo's jealously for that relief could rise, and then the nun was completely businesslike.

"Well, what is it, then? What's the matter with him?"

Now, Ryo had _almost_ managed to come up with a story by then—a story that would tell just enough of the truth that hopefully Maria wouldn't know right off that he was lying, but not enough to send her into cardiac arrest. He'd blessed his training as an officer then, because it had greatly enhanced his ability to think on his feet.

Until his carefully-concocted tale flew straight out of his head the second her eyes fixed on him, and he found himself babbling the whole story, with very little control over the words coming out of his mouth. Luckily, he did have enough control left to spew only the bare facts, without letting his own feelings color his words, though the emotions practically choked him.

When he finally fell silent, Maria sat back in her chair and murmured, "Well. This is a fine mess we're in, isn't it?"

There it was again—the _we_, the immediate rise inside, the _feeling_…

"So why did you come to me?" Maria asked, breaking the silence. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate you letting me know, but I can tell that's not the real reason you came knocking on my door at four in the morning."

She was taking this entirely too well. _A lot better than me…_But then, maybe she was simply as good as—or better than—an NYPD cop at hiding her emotions.

"Well? Go on, out with it. What can I do?"

"Well, uh, I wanted to know if you'd be willing to…keep Bikky here until this is taken care of. This thing in Dee may not care about going after him, but I won't take that chance."

"Does that mean you're keeping him home from school, then?"

"If it comes to that. But hopefully it won't last that long." _Because if it does, I will surely kill myself…_

Maria sighed heavily. "You know, I'd hoped never to have to be involved in anything like this. That's why I sent John Winchester out the door twenty years ago, and that's why I haven't tried to contact him since. And yet, here I am. I guess the past does have a habit of catching up with all of us sooner or later."

"So…so will you help us?" Ryo asked uncertainly.

Maria looked completely disgusted then. "Well, of course I'm going to help you! What, did you think I was just going to leave you out in the cold, and let my boy die? All I'm saying is that it seems it was entirely pointless for me to refuse John all those years ago. I assume those boys of his are going to help you, by the way?"

"More like _I'm_ going to help _them_. They'll do most of it…"

Maria held up a hand to silence him then, and shook her head, looking troubled. "Don't. I don't want to hear your plan, because it's bound to be dangerous, and if I hear about it, I'll want to stop you. And obviously, that would be completely unacceptable." She smiled then, a smile meant only for Ryo, and he felt The Feeling again.

Only, this time, he knew what it was. He'd felt it from Dee before, but he hadn't needed it in so long, and now Dee…wasn't Dee. So maybe it wasn't too surprising that Ryo didn't recognize the feeling—the feeling of being supported.

The feeling of not being alone.

XXX

Ryo went into the precinct Saturday, because he hadn't been in in a couple of days, and if he didn't show his face by the time the weekend was up, he would have Rose to deal with.

He had expected to be asked why Dee was in the hospital again—there was no way to hide the fact, since a doctor's note had been sent to the Commissioner, and Rose's reputation for being unable to keep his mouth shut was well-founded. So he was prepared to go into the precinct and lie to them.

What he was _not_ prepared for was for JJ and Drake to descend on him the second he stepped through the door, and for the latter to hug him carefully while the former bounced around with a sad look on his face, like he'd watched a puppy die.

"I'm so sorry, Ryo," Drake murmured.

Ryo stood stiffly for a moment, his mind racing, and then he allowed himself to lean on his friend, just for a moment. "How did you find out?"

Drake backed up until his hands clutched Ryo's shoulders. "Ryo, have you turned your TV on at all since yesterday?"

Ryo shook his head. "I've been with…I haven't seen anything."

The next thing he knew, Drake was pulling him into the nearest empty meeting room and stopping in front of the TV, reaching out to turn it on, while JJ hopped impatiently from one foot to the other behind them.

"…Dee Laytner, the NYPD officer who was found trapped in an abandoned factory two days ago, after being captured by an unknown assailant, has gone missing once again, this time from the hospital he was in after being caught in an explosion downtown. Hospital personnel remain baffled by the events, and insist that no one on staff has any idea what could have happened. As of yet, no evidence has appeared linking this disappearance to the last."

Ryo jumped as a picture of Dee came up suddenly, filling the screen, and he felt the blood drain from his face. "Turn it off," he said in a weird, strangled voice that didn't remotely sound like his.

Drake looked at him, and immediately reached out to flick the TV off, looking alarmed.

"It's all over the place," JJ said into the silence. "Rose blew a gasket when he found out—he was hoping to keep it quiet, like the whole…fake death…thing. But obviously, since he somehow managed to pull _that_ one off, he's used up all his luck—and his contacts—for one lifetime. Anyway, he's been screaming into the phone all day, trying to track down the informant and have him shot, or something along those lines. No one's seen him, so we're all basically running around in the dark here."

"Huh. Well, I wish you luck," Ryo said absently.

"Ryo, are you okay?" Drake asked. "Uh…physically, I mean," he clarified, when JJ rolled his eyes.

"Well…yeah, sure. Why?"

"Oh, I dunno. You just look…a little dazed."

"No, I'm fine. This is all just…a little weird. You know, seeing him there like that. On TV, you know." _Liar_. "Listen, I'm gonna go talk to Rose. See if I can find out what's going on. Thanks for letting me know about…this."

"Sure, Ryo. And if you feel like taking the day off, we'll cover for you, no problem."

Ryo smiled wanly. "Thanks."

"Sure. We're always here for you, Ryo."

"Thanks."

XXX

"NO, DAMN IT, I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO REPORT! I'M THE ONE WHO _NEEDS_ THE REPORT! No, don't you _dare_ put me on hold again, you useless…GAH!"

Rose slammed the phone down and rounded on Ryo. He stared for a moment, then spoke in a completely different voice.

"Come in, Ryo."

"Have you tracked anything down?" Ryo asked, trying to sound calm as he closed the door behind him.

Rose sighed and shook his head, perching on the edge of his desk. "Not a thing. It's like everything in the world is against me tracking down whoever ratted on us. I guess it doesn't really matter, but…"

"You want to know anyways."

"Yeah…so did you want something? Besides to find out what the hell? Because I still have no idea."

"Oh. Well, I guess that's all I wanted, then. Except…well, I was wondering if you'd mind if I…took a half day today. I…uh…have someone I have to meet."

Rose shrugged. "That sounds pretty…doable. I planned to have you on desk duty if you showed up, anyway. All of the paperwork is in your office."

Ryo nodded. "Thanks, sir."

As he sat up and left, though, Ryo's relief was shadowed by something else.

Rose had only made two passes at him, both of them extremely subtle, and that usually meant only one thing: he was worried.

And that was never good.

XXX

Two hours later, Ryo had moved on from being worried about Rose to cursing his existence.

He sighed and closed another file, setting it onto his completed pile before turning back to the much larger pile that he'd been wading through. _I guess I can dismiss the idea that he's pitying me…_

The door creaked open just as the though crossed his mind, and he groaned inwardly. _Not now…_

But when he steeled himself, and looked up, he did _not_ see Berkley Rose leaning over him, ready to catch up on all the inappropriate come-ons he'd missed out on earlier.

The thing with Dee's face didn't say anything this time. It just stood in front of Ryo's desk, and looked at him. Ryo stared back at him, wanting to shout, to scream, to run, to do _anything_ that would relieve the sudden tightening in his chest, the sudden clench in his belly…

It was impossible to tell how long it lasted. Long enough for Ryo to wonder why none of his friends had come to check on him under the guise of casual conversation. Long enough to wonder why no one had seen Dee walk through the precinct in the first place. Long enough to become absolutely certain that if _something_ didn't happen soon, all of that would become insignificant because he would surely drop dead on the thinly carpeted floor…

And then he…it…smiled, a slow, cold, feral grin, and leaned over to kiss him again, and the sense of _Dee_ just…wasn't there, and Ryo felt disgust welling up in him and he had to close his eyes to keep from fighting back. Then the lips left him and he looked up, and it was gone, leaving Ryo alone with a pile of papers and a half-open door.

The paralysis lifted then, and Ryo pushed his chair back and stood up shakily, holding tightly to the edge of his desk with both hands. His knees were practically knocking together, he was shaking so hard.

"Ryo? Oh, my God, Ryo, are you all right?"

Ryo just stared down at his desk, barely noticing the voice. He only snapped out of his daze when someone took hold of his arm at the elbow and drew him upright, supporting him carefully. "Oh…JJ…hi…" he murmured dazedly, looking around for Drake. Sure enough, the sandy-haired man was standing at the door, which he'd just closed. "Hi, Drake…"

"Ryo, what's the matter?" JJ asked, concerned. "You look like you've seen the Devil himself!"

"You're not wrong…" Ryo murmured, finally managing to stand without help. "Uh…listen, I'm…not feeling well." Well, it certainly wasn't a lie… "Uh…do you think you could…cover for me with Rose?"

He didn't have to wait for a reply to know that the answer was yes. That was just the kind of friends they were.

XXX

"Well, this is just great," Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stared at their motel room's tiny TV. "We actually had a chance of taking care of this thing _quietly_. Now the press is gonna be trying to follow Ryo wherever he goes!"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I know. But he'll probably be able to give them the slip. And even if he can't, we still have to do this tonight. If we wait someone could get hurt." He bent back over the book that he had open in his lap, his lips continuing to move silently.

"How's the studying coming, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "Like being back at Stanford, only in Latin. I've got most of it memorized, but the reading gets more difficult near the end. What about you?"

Dean held up the plastic Tupperware bowl he'd been mixing in his lap while he watched the news. "Working on it. Hey, what time—"

A loud knock on the door cut through his thoughts then, and Sam looked up from the book. "Uh…I guess now…" he murmured, looking at his watch in confusion, and crawling off his bed to open the door.

Ryo made no move to come in. Instead, he stood in the open doorway, and blurted out the reason he'd come hours early.

"I saw him."

XXX

"I just…I didn't expect…it…to come into the _precinct_ like that. I know you said it was going to be following me around, but…not _there_. So many people know Dee there…"

"Well, at least it means we were right," Dean said, coming up behind Ryo and handing him one of the cups of coffee he'd poured from the teeny-tiny coffee pot on the teeny-tiny counter in the corner of the room, giving another to Sam and keeping one for himself. "He won't hesitate to follow you anywhere, and that's an important part of our plan."

Ryo took the cup gratefully and held it in both hands, his elbows resting on the table in front of him. "Yeah…that's true. It's good. I know it's good. But…it was unexpected, and I can't help acting stupid over it. Not all of us deal with this kind of thing every day." But his tone wasn't at all defensive—or really anything at all. He just sounded…tired.

Sam decided not to touch on anything he'd said, since Ryo seemed to be talking to himself, anyway. "Ryo, did he follow you?" he asked instead, gently.

Ryo shrugged. "I didn't see him, but then again, I guess I wouldn't, right? And…I _felt_ like he was. I don't know how to explain it, but I know I wasn't being paranoid. I'm almost sure he did."

Sam felt a stab of satisfaction, but he hid it perfectly, and allowed only the sympathy he really did feel to show on his face. "Okay. That's good. That's _important_. But it also means that you should stay here, because if he's still watching, you can't leave too fast."

Ryo nodded. "That's okay. I…I don't want to go home, anyway."

Sam smiled sadly at him, and patted his shoulder as he stood. "Don't worry, Ryo. It's gonna be fine."

What he _didn't_ say was that it was probably going to get worse before it got better.

XXX

"Worse" hadn't yet arrived by the time night began to fall, but Sam's bad feeling didn't abate, so he knew it was still coming. He didn't bother mentioning it, though—he couldn't really pin down the feeling enough to articulate it, and though Dean would be willing to take "just a feeling" as a reason to worry, Ryo was another story entirely. _He_ had no idea that Sam was a psychic, and it was probably best not to mention that little detail, at least not until this was all over.

Ryo had spent the day lying on Sam's bed—after a lot of insistence—watching TV. Well, supposedly he was watching TV, but considering the fact that he hadn't turned the channel all day, and the fact that he was now staring at the Magic Bullet infomercial as if fascinated, there probably wasn't a lot of watching going on there.

Dean had finished the mixture he'd been working on by five, and after that he moved on to cleaning the weapons. Many of them were already taken care of, and they wouldn't be using them tonight, but that wasn't the point of cleaning them, anyway, so Sam didn't say a word.

As for Sam…well, he was dangerously close to losing it. He'd had the chant memorized backward and forward—literally—a little before Dean finished the powder, but unlike his brother, _he_ had no activity to fall back on. He finished all their laundry at the motel's machine, checked e-mails and replied to his friends, looked over the spell for the thousandth time to make sure he had it absolutely right, and finally wound up on the bed next to Ryo, staring at the TV.

Now, this wasn't exactly the biggest bed in the world, and with two grown men—both over six feet tall—it was quite a tight fit. He and Ryo ended up lying pretty close together, and while neither of _them_ particularly cared or even noticed, Sam _did_ feel an odd prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and that was how he knew that "Dee" was watching.

_Good_, he thought with satisfaction. It was all going according to plan…

XXX

Sam looked at his watch and nearly cried with relief. His vision would begin in exactly fifteen minutes. _Finally_, something was going to happen.

"He still watching us?" Dean asked, his voice deceptively calm as he packed up their weapons and stowed them under his bed. As he straightened, he tucked a hand into his pocket, and Sam knew he was making sure the pouch he'd put together was still there.

"Yes," Ryo and Sam replied at the same time, and Sam ignored the confused look Ryo gave him.

Dean, however, didn't even seem to notice. He just asked—a little desperately— "Can we go yet, Sammy?"

"It's Sam."

"Okay, great, let's get outta here."

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean practically ran out of the room, but when Ryo smiled tiredly at their antics, he couldn't help but smile back.

XXX

"This has got to be the weirdest thing we've ever done to make a kill," Dean muttered.

Sam felt Ryo tense under his arm at the "k" word, and he snapped, "Shut up, Dean."

"No, don't worry about it," Ryo replied quietly. "It's a little weird for me, too, and _I'm_ the gay one here. Not that you're not very attractive," he added quickly to Sam. "You are…just…uh…"

"I get it," Sam cut him off, and glared at Dean over Ryo's head as his brother snorted laughter. "And it's not exactly normal for me, either, but making it jealous—or making it _think_ it's jealous, anyway—is the only way we can be sure it'll keep following us, instead of leaving and waiting to get you alone."

"I know. I just…oh, I wish we didn't _have_ to do this! I wish you guys could just go home, and I wish Dee could just be here with me right now." He sighed heavily, then changed the subject so abruptly that Sam was taken aback. "Hey, what did you mean when you said you wanted to make it _think_ it was jealous?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, obviously demons are incapable of feeling human emotion. They can _imitate_ it, but in the end that's all it is—cheap acting. But _this_ demon wasn't always a demon. It was human once, and if luck is with us at all, it can remember how it felt back then, and it can remember how humans are supposed to feel when they see their…people?...I dunno, whatever…going off with someone else. If it gets jealous, it will want to kill, not just you, but me, for being with you, and even Dean, for allowing it."

"So by trying to make it jealous, you're really just trying to make it come after all of us instead of just me."

"Exactly."

"And this is what your plan hinges on?"

"Sadly, yes."

Ryo shrugged. "Well, I like it. You'd get kicked off the force for a plan like that, but if it works…"

"It will work. He _is_ still following us…" Sam swallowed, and steeled himself as they walked by yet another alleyway. "That's it. And now for the most awkward part of a really awkward outing."

Dean chuckled. "Remember, Sammy, no glove, no love."

Sam's glare would have been enough to send pretty much anyone scuttling for cover, but Dean just laughed. "Oh, I cannot _wait_ to get my hands on you…"

Dean feigned shock. "Why, Sammy, I never would have pinned you as the type!"

"OH, MY GOD, DEAN!"

"Well, it's a little soon for the yell, but hey, it works."

Sam very nearly abandoned the plan then, in favor of beating his brother into a bloody pulp, but he glanced at Ryo—who was _not_ making jokes, and just looked scared—and forcibly swallowed his annoyance, reaching out to take Ryo by the arm.

Ryo didn't resist as Sam pulled him into the alley, but his arm was shaking under Sam's hand, and his breathing was harsh and heavy. Sam let go of him when they reached the back wall, and said, "Okay, unbutton your shirt a little. Yeah, I know," he said at Ryo's look. "It's disturbing for me, too, mainly because I like the girls, but I couldn't figure out a way around it." As he spoke, Sam was unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt, and Ryo tentatively did the same.

"Oh, God, this is so gonna haunt me 'till I die," Sam muttered, screwing his eyes up tight and reaching out to grab Ryo's shoulders as if he was taking hold of a snake.

The details of the next minute or so really don't need telling. Both Ryo and Sam were entirely freaked out by the present situation—for completely understandable reasons on both sides—but luckily they didn't have to go very far before they were interrupted.

"Having fun?"

Ryo jumped away from Sam like his skin was on fire as the smooth voice rolled over them, and Sam knew that he wasn't the only one who felt a pang of relief at the separation as he turned toward the voice.

"Dee" stood not five feet away from them, watching them coolly. The demon wasn't smiling, or frowning, or _anything_—just staring at them with no expression at all. It looked exactly like it had in Sam's vision—calm, cold, cruel…

And then its gaze captured Sam's, and the sheer _power_ of its gaze was almost enough to unravel the youngest Winchester. Its eyes, a bright, poisonous, glowing green, caught Sam's, and he stopped moving, stopped studying, stopped _thinking_. He could only watch, powerless, as the thing dismissed him as someone of no importance, and turned its attention to Ryo.

Now, Sam had never been forced to watch as one of his visions was brought to life, but he found he could not look away as "Dee" approached Ryo, drawing out the gun.

"Dee…please…" Ryo whimpered, and it was heartbreakingly obvious that he was only half acting. "You don't want to do this. I know you don't. This isn't you…you would never do this to me. Don't shoot that gun, Dee…you'll never forgive yourself if you do…"

The gun rose, and Sam was finally able to close his eyes and duck his head as the gunshot shattered the quiet of the alley.

_Wait for it…wait for it…_

And then Dean was there, and Sam looked up just in time to see him dump the binding powder he'd spent all day making over the creature's head, keeping it still just long enough to make a quick circle of the stuff around it, sealing it in place.

As he opened his mouth and began the chant, Sam wondered why they hadn't yet arrived at "worse."

XXX

Dean was a little disappointed. His part in this whole thing had been entirely anticlimactic. The stupid thing hadn't even fought back! He'd expected some kind of resistance, at least! But there had been nothing, and that was a little sad.

But whatever. That wasn't even the point. The point was, now the creature was just _standing_ there, not so much as twitching, just staring from Ryo, to Sam, to Dean, and back. Its eyes grew brighter with each circle, and—creepiest of all—there was a small smirk on its lips, like it found these proceedings hilarious. Like it wasn't worried about this at all.

That should have been his next clue.

Sam's chants swelled, grew in volume, and Dean felt a stab of pride. Damn, but the kid could memorize fast. And he would be getting to the end of it now, so this was almost over. Sam's voice rose to a shout, and just like that, the demon exited Dee's body.

It left quickly, efficiently…silently. There was no scream of rage, no roar of pain…nothing. It didn't even seem to fight. It just…allowed itself to be expelled from Dee's body.

Dean didn't know whether the thought occurred to him naturally, or if the demon somehow inserted it into his mind, but it was there all the same. Suddenly, he _knew_ why there hadn't been any fight. The demon hadn't been effected at all by the binding powder. The spell itself had done its job, but only because the demon hadn't fought it. Their nerve had made it _angry_, sure, but it had decided to _use_ that anger, to give it a target—a target that would _hurt_ those that had tried to kill it…and it knew that those people did not include Ryo.

"SAM!"

The warning shout came too late. Almost too fast to see, the now-formless demon threw itself into Sam, who went absolutely still, and then slowly smiled. His eyes brightened, began to change color…With a chuckle, he stared lazily toward Dean, who could only stare.

_Oh, God, no…not yet…it can't be time yet…_

And then the demon stopped, froze in its tracks. The smirk faded, and was replaced by a frown. Then the frown changed to terror, and the terror changed to a yell, and the yell changed to a roar, and Sam's mouth opened….and black mist poured out.

XXX

He was closer to Dean than he was before.

That was the first thing Sam noticed when he came back to himself. The second thing he noticed was that he didn't remember if he'd done anything. He couldn't remember a thing from the time the thing had entered him—he didn't even know how long it had been inside him…or how it wasn't anymore.

_Well, I guess we've arrived at "worse"…_he thought absently, as he looked around frantically.

He managed to take in enough to feel an overwhelming relief. No one was dead. They were all staring, wide-eyed, at _him_, but they were all alive…

And then the world started graying out, and he fell to his knees.

And when Ryo collapsed, Sam realized that he'd been wrong.

They _hadn't_ arrived at "worse."

No, they'd _skipped_ "worse" entirely, and gone right on ahead to "worst."

* * *

AN: I know the end was really confusing. It was supposed to be, until the next chapter. Anyways, there's either one or two more chapters to this. It depends on whether or not I decide to put the epilogue in the next one or not. Either way, please review!!! …If it's not too much trouble, that is… 


	13. Chapter 12: A Chance to Rest?

It officially sucks to be the last one standing. Dean knew that all too well, considering Sam's seemingly endless capacity for trouble lately. And now he found himself in that situation again, as the three people around him either fell unconscious or just lost the ability to stay on their own two feet.

As he held a semi-conscious Sam on his feet, Dean's gaze flicked from Ryo, lying flat on the ground, completely out, to Dee, on his knees five feet away, fighting to hold onto his awareness.

It had been barely five seconds since the demon had fled from Sam, but to Dean's scattered senses, it seemed like hours before Dee pushed himself up, and lifted his head to look at Ryo.

He immediately went pale, his complexion turning completely ashen, and he murmured in a choked voice, "Oh…oh, God, Ryo…"

As Dee scrambled over to Ryo on his hands and knees, Dean's daze broke, and he reached into his pocket with one hand—still holding Sam up with the other—to take out his cell.

As he dialed for an ambulance, though, Dean looked over at Ryo, cradled against Dee's chest, and he couldn't help but think that maybe they hadn't entirely succeeded in this after all.

XXX

Dee could feel his mind trying to blank out on him, a combination of shock, exhaustion, and confusion. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing here, or how he'd gotten here. Everyone _else_ seemed to know, but _he _couldn't remember.

And what was with Sam, anyway? He looked absolutely white…and that black mist that had erupted out of him—what was _that_ about? Did he even _want_ to know?

Well…yes.

But not right now.

He held Ryo closer, and looked down into his too-pale face. The only reassurance Ryo offered was the fact that his chest still rose up and down evenly and normally, though his pulse raced.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and he jumped about a foot as Dean lowered Sam gently to the ground next to him. Despite his fear for Ryo, he had to notice that the younger of the brothers did _not_ look good. His face was utterly livid—not a speck of color there—and he couldn't seem to even sit up without assistance.

But he was awake, if not exactly alert, so Dee turned his attention quickly back to Ryo.

"What's the matter with him?" he asked—well, demanded, really, his fear and his impatience getting the better of him. "What happened? Where _are_ we? _Why can't I remember?" _The last part came out as more of a howl, and he was immediately embarrassed as the echo of it died away. "Did you call an ambulance?" he asked, as calmly as he could.

Dean nodded, but his eyes were on Ryo and he looked as confused as Dee felt. Maybe more, and theoretically, he _knew_ what had happened! Then again, seeing the way his eyes kept flicking to Sam at odd moments, Dee thought that maybe Dean wasn't _only_ confused over Ryo's condition.

"I dunno what could be wrong with him," Dean said, in answer to Dee's first question. "There's no blood, so the bullet couldn't have actually gotten him…"

"_Bullet_?" Dee practically shouted, causing Sam to jump a little before falling back into his sort of half-stupor. "Did someone shoot at him?!"

Dean went from looking confused then, to looking damned uncomfortable. "Well…uh…yeah. About that…look, we'll talk about it later. The point is, he had on a bulletproof vest, anyway, so that can't possibly be what's got him like this. Yeah, we did know he was gonna get shot at," he added, before Dee could ask. "Did you even see what happened to him?"

Dee shook his head, his hand reaching, almost of its own accord, to take Ryo's, rubbing it gently. "I wasn't watching. I was too busy—"

"Staring at my brother. Yeah, me too. Damn it, Sammy, will you quit _pushing_?"

"'M not…" Sam slurred, opening his eyes to glare blearily at Dean.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, but he didn't remove the arm that was holding Sam in a sitting position.

"Uh…is _he_ okay?" Dee asked.

Dean shrugged. "Who knows. I guess he's just tired. From…what he did."

"Yeah…about that…what _did_ he do?" Dee asked, latching onto any subject that could take his mind off the fact that Ryo could be dying in his arms right now. "What _was_ that…that black stuff?"

But the sound of sirens cut the conversation off then, and in his worry Dee never caught the relief on Dean's face.

XXX

_Come on, Sammy, ya gotta gimme some help here…_Dean thought, as he and Dee rode along in the ambulance with Sam and Ryo. He had originally just planned to take Sam in the Impala and drive to the hospital to find out about Ryo, but the EMTs had been so alarmed at his appearance that they'd insisted he come in the ambulance. Dean had looked at Ryo, and decided that they didn't have time to argue—and maybe a part of him hadn't wanted to, because to be perfectly candid—which Dean usually was not—Sam was scaring him a little right now. (Plus, the Impala was back at the motel…)

There was barely room for someone to lift his hand in the ambulance, what with two patients, two EMTs, and two passengers, but neither he nor Dee would consent to stay behind, and the EMTs had no choice but to agree.

Dee didn't take his eyes from Ryo's face the whole ride, and his hand never detached itself from Ryo's. Even when the EMT sternly told him to move so she could actually get some work done, he somehow managed to create the space without breaking the connection once. His eyes were bright, and once or twice Dean could have sworn he saw a tear or two slip out.

Finally, Dean looked away entirely, feeling both extremely intrusive and highly uncomfortable. Was _this_, then, the way people felt when they looked at the relationship he and Dean shared, from a distance? Was _this_ why the doctors and nurses—and, hell, even their father—tended to avoid bothering him and Sam when one of them was in the hospital? Were _they_ as put off by his and Sam's obvious closeness as _he_ was by Ryo and Dee's?

And what was it about this place that made him _think_ about these things all the time?

Even as all of these thoughts wandered aimlessly through his head with no place to go, Dean found his gaze traveling to his brother, as if guided by the silent questions.

Sam's head was propped up a little, and his eyes wandered vaguely around the ambulance, from wall to wall, from person to person. The EMT who wasn't focused on Ryo was talking to him, asking questions. Only they weren't the questions that were asked when someone was suspected of having a concussion—Dean knew _those_ questions backwards and forwards—so maybe the guy was just trying to capture Sam's attention?

Well, if _that_ was his intent, he was failing miserably. Sam was barely _acknowledging_ the poor guy—just murmuring one or two words in this vague, quiet voice that made it obvious that his mind wasn't on the questions, while his eyes continued to wander around the ambulance.

Finally, after hearing the guy repeat the question "Could you tell me what Stanford was like, Sam?" for about the fifth time, Dean decided enough was enough. With a grunt, he leaned forward in his seat and spoke in his "stern older brother" voice. "Sammy, look at me."

It took a couple of seconds, but Sam's gaze finally got around to him, and when it got there, it stayed, though his eyes were so glazed that he seemed to be staring at Dean's nose. "Wha' s'matter, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes, and forced himself to sound nothing more than annoyed. "Nothin's the matter, Sam, except that if you don't focus, and try to talk to this guy who's trying to do…whatever he's supposed to do…I'm gonna kill you both."

Sam just looked confused then, and Dean sighed and reached out to turn Sam's head toward the EMT sitting next to him. "_Him,_ Sammy. He's the one you're supposed to be paying attention to."

Sam, however, was clearly not in the mood to listen. His eyes snapped back to Dean as soon as the older Winchester let him go, and he said, "Dean, 'm confused…"

"Really? I had no idea," Dean replied sarcastically.

"No, not about _that_," Sam said exasperatedly, though what "that" was, Dean had no idea. "About what _happened_, Dean. What'd I _do…_?"

_Oh, damn it…_ Dean cursed silently, envisioning Sam blurting out everything that had happened tonight in his confusion. "Sammy, we'll talk about it later, okay?"

"But Dean…"

Luckily, though, Dean was let off the hook—again—when they reached the hospital.

_My luck has to be running low by now…I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if the cops were waiting inside to _finally_ arrest me for all those murders in St. Louis…_

XXX

Dean was allowed to accompany Sam into the examining room, mainly because he seemed to be the only one able to keep his brother's attention for any length of time. Dee, however, was forced to stay behind as Ryo was wheeled off, and he was too worried and scared and exhausted to try to convince them. He'd probably just be in the way, anyway.

But that knowledge didn't stop the situation from being frustrating. He'd never actually had to sit in the waiting room before—every other time they'd been in the hospital, he and Ryo had been _together—_and now that he was actually in this position, he had absolutely no idea what to do.

So, he did what any other self-respecting male who was scared out of his wits would do: he paced. He paced the width of the room. Then he paced the length of it. Then he paced the diagonals. Finally, he paced a complete square of the area. Then he sat down for about a minute, before he jumped up and began the cycle again.

And all the time he paced, there were thoughts and questions—oh, so many questions—flying through his head, unstoppable, uncontainable. So, to occupy his mind more than anything else, he began to sift through them, trying to solve the mystery.

_All right, so what's the most basic rule of detective work? _Dee thought, taking a strange comfort in the familiarity of his work and its regulations. _Start with what you know._

Okay, so…what did he know?

Well, almost nothing. His mind was a complete blank from a little while after Ryo left his hospital room, to when he suddenly "woke up" in that alley. He'd felt like he'd just run five miles, but physically, he'd been unhurt. He'd been staring at the ground when he'd heard that roaring sound, and looked up to see that…_stuff_…pouring out of Sam Winchester's mouth.

He'd been staring at Sam when the other man collapsed. Dean had caught him easily, but Sam hadn't regained consciousness for several seconds, and then he'd been barely lucid. Dee had turned away then, and had looked around him. And it was then that he had seen Ryo, lying over near the brick wall…

Dee froze as a sudden memory leaped into his mind, before carefully repressed.

There had been a gun in his hand.

When he had come to himself again, he'd been holding a gun.

"…_The bullet couldn't have actually gotten him…"_

"Bullet_? Did someone shoot at him?!"_

"_Well…uh…yeah."_

_Well…uh…yeah._

The words echoed in his mind, over and over again.

_Well…uh…yeah._

Someone had shot at Ryo.

And Dee had had the gun in his hands.

The implications of it were more than he could handle right now. His chest began to tighten…he couldn't breathe—he was suffocating under his own guilt.

He didn't realize his phone was in his hand until he'd already began dialing, but that was okay, because his fingers knew what buttons to push, anyway.

"Hello?"

Dee tried to force words past the lump in his throat. He failed the first time, and the second, but finally—_third time's the charm_—he spoke in a choked, tearful voice. "…JJ?"

"EEEEE!"

XXX

"Mr. Mitchell, please," the doctor checking Sam over said, trying and failing to keep the bite of impatience from his voice. "I need you to try and focus."

Sam just continued to read the paper on the nearest wall—one of those lame things they put up to keep you from killing yourself out of sheer boredom before they can cure you—and ignored the doctor, his lips moving silently. It wasn't like he was purposefully ignoring the poor guy—he really couldn't pay attention.

The doctor looked pleadingly at Dean, who simply sighed and said tiredly, "Sammy, come on, man. Try and do what the doc says, okay?"

He still couldn't tell if Sam was reacting to his voice alone, or to the sternness he carefully injected into it, but regardless, his attention turned sluggishly to Dean, and the doctor continued his exam.

Dean sat back in his chair, and sighed again, staring moodily at the wall, putting all his effort into not looking half as worried as he felt—a practice he excelled at by now, sadly enough.

Still, he could no sooner control his thoughts than he could control the tide, and it occurred to him that this doctor had been checking Sam over for a very long time. And that, combined with the fact that Sam had fallen completely unconscious for at least a few seconds, and that he still couldn't seem to focus on anything for any length of time—it all made Dean very nervous.

He'd never seen his brother like this. He'd seen Sam unconscious, he'd seen Sam with broken legs and arms and wrists and ankles and everything else, he'd seen Sam comatose a couple of times, even seen him dead once—but _no, so not going there_—but never anything like what was happening now. Not this simpleminded, vague, oh-so-_polite_ puzzlement that would have been hilarious if it wasn't so damned worrying.

Still, Sam's eyes were now obediently following the little light, and even from here Dean could see that there was no evidence of a head injury. So as long as they didn't need a CAT scan—Sam had a terrible tendency to need heavy sedatives when it came to _those_ devils—maybe things would turn out okay after all…

"Well," the doctor said at long last, "he doesn't have a concussion or any sort of head injury, that much is obvious. But it doesn't explain the attention problem, or the general shakiness…" He shook his head. "I don't think a CAT scan will be necessary—"

Dean breathed a quick, silent sigh of relief.

"—But I'd like to admit him, just for a few hours—until he becomes more coherent." He looked at Sam then, before turning back to Dean and lowering his voice. "So you say you don't know what caused this?"

Dean looked over at his brother, and he saw that Sam's eyes had gone back to wandering the room as he ignored the two of them completely.

"No, doc," he murmured, without taking his eyes off Sam. "I really have no idea."

XXX

JJ and Drake arrived about ten minutes after Dee hung up his phone, and it probably would have been faster if they weren't in New York City, where there seemed to be twice as many cars as people.

Now, obviously, Dee hadn't told them everything. In fact, he'd barely told them anything—just that he was safe once again, and that Ryo was in the hospital with a so-far-unexplained illness.

Dee was still pacing when they raced in, but now more slowly and leisurely. The first signal of their arrival was, of course, JJ's screech—the only warning Dee had to ready himself before a pair of arms wound around him from behind, and a body slammed into him like a freight train.

"DEEEEE!"

"Get off me, JJ," Dee said wearily, and JJ was apparently so surprised that he actually let go, allowing Dee to turn around. The first thing he saw was JJ's face, inches from his own, gigantic purple eyes staring at him. Behind him, Drake stood, looking at him with concern. He smiled wanly. "Hi, guys."

"Hi!"

JJ's voice rang out across the room, and the nurse at the desk glared formidably.

"JJ, please," Dee said quietly, and realized that his voice was choking again. He swallowed twice, and tried again. "Don't do that right now, okay?"

"But I'm just happy to see you, Sexy—" JJ said, looking hurt. Then, after a moment, he seemed to decide on just looking sad. "Is Ryo pretty bad?"

"I…I don't know, no one's come yet," Dee said, sighing, and finally allowing himself to give into his exhaustion, collapsing limply into a chair, his face falling forward into his hands. After a moment, he sensed JJ and Drake sitting down on either side of him, and both their arms slid around his shoulders, linking them all.

"Dee, what happened?" Drake asked gently.

Dee lifted his head a little, enough that his reply could be understood. "I don't know. I had just gotten back to him—" Better not even go _into_ that whole thing… "And then he just…collapsed." He took a deep, shaky breath, and let it out slowly. "H-his breathing was normal, but his pulse…it was so fast…"

"Oh, God…" Drake murmured, his arm tightening impulsively.

"Yeah. And then we…we called an ambulance, and they took him away, and now they won't tell me anything, and…and I'm so scared…"

The confession came out in a ragged whimper, and he had to fight back tears again.

"Oh, Dee…" Drake sighed, squeezing his shoulders gently. A few moments of silence, and then he said reluctantly. "Listen, Dee…this is a really bad time, I know, but…we need to know where you've been. What happened to you?"

Dee sighed. "Honestly…I have no idea. No, seriously," he added at their looks of disbelief. "Last thing I remember, I was in the hospital, and then I woke up in this…this alley. Sam and Dean were there—"

"Oh, those really hot guys who turned up at the precinct? I was wondering where they'd gotten to…"

"—And so was Ryo. I guess I was just…blacked out, the whole time."

"And whoever kidnapped you…"

"He's dead," Dee said absently. "And you aren't gonna find a body. I do know that much."

_How_ he knew, he couldn't say, but out of this whole crazy, confusing mess, _that_, at least, was one thing he was sure of.

XXX

"All right, Mr. Mitchell, you're all set up," Sam's doctor said brightly. "Now just sit tight until that IV empties, and then we'll see about releasing you."

Dean glared at the man's back as he left—he'd said _nothing_ about an IV, and Dean had never liked seeing those needles poking out of his brother's hand. He didn't know why one was even necessary—the things were only used to replenish fluids, and Sam hadn't _lost_ any fluids!

"Dean, stop that," Sam complained.

"Stop what?" Dean replied, still glaring at the doorway, just because it was the last place he'd seen that doctor.

"Stop feelin' so mad and freaked out. You're makin' my head hurt."

Dean did look at him then, startled. "What do you mean by that, Sammy?"

Sam, though, was already moving onto another subject. He wasn't exactly back to full strength yet—hell, he was barely even halfway—but he was at least becoming capable of looking at one thing for more than ten seconds, and to pay attention for at least that.

But _why was he like this_? Sure, he'd been possessed, but this was way more than the normal weakness that comes from _that_. And not only was his _body_ impaired, but apparently his mental abilities, as well. It was all just temporary—Sam was already beginning to come back to himself—but that wasn't even the _point_. The _point_ was that once again, Sam had reacted…differently. Abnormally. And that just sucked.

"Dean, 're you even listenin' to me?" Sam slurred, and Dean pushed the dark thoughts away, focusing on Sam, who was looking at him in innocent puzzlement and interest.

"Sorry, Sammy, what?"

"I asked you what happened to me," Sam said, not at all offended at being ignored—if he even noticed it now that more than two seconds had passed.

"...Oh. Well, uh…" Dean began uncomfortably, trying frantically to come up with a suitable reply.

"I mean, I know I got possessed," Sam continued, and now Dean suddenly blessed his brother's distance from emotion, if it allowed him to actually say those words calmly and rationally. "But why didn't it kill anyone? It didn't even kill Ryo…just hurt him, before it left."

"Well, ya see, Sammy…" Dean said, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell Sam the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. _So help me God…ha…_ "You…_it_…didn't do anything to Ryo. Or…anyone else. Ryo…he just collapsed. It had nothing to do with the demon. It didn't even _try_ to hurt us. It…it was only in you for a few seconds, and then it just…it _left_."

"Left?" Sam echoed, confusion ringing in his tone. "But…but why?"

"I don't have a clue. And you don't remember anything, right?"

Sam paused, then shook his head. "No…nothing." He didn't give Dean a chance to wonder at the hesitation. "So it just…let me go?"

"Yeah."

"Well…then why bother taking me at all?"

"See, that's the thing. I don't think it left on its own." Dean pushed the words out as quickly as possible, not liking the way they felt—or what they could mean—at all.

"What're you talkin' about?" Sam asked, and the confusion was back again.

"Well…" Dean said, then sighed. "Look, maybe I just imagined it, but…"

"_What_?" Sam asked impatiently, when Dean paused again.

"I think…when it possessed you…right before it vanished…it looked…scared."

"…Huh?"

"_Scared_, Sam. It looked _terrified_, okay? And I think…I think you killed it, Sam."

XXX

Ryo's doctor didn't come out for another forty-five minutes, but the waiting seemed slightly more bearable with Drake and JJ around, so at least Dee was able to refrain from ripping heads off.

Drake called the precinct a little while after they reached the hospital. Rose had apparently been there 'round the clock, trying to put a lid on all the rumor over Dee's second disappearance, and Drake insisted that they should let him know he could take a break.

Dee had been fairly surprised at the idea that _he'd_ been a major topic covered by the news crew over the last twenty-four hours—and by the fact that Rose was working so hard to take care of it all. But the fact was, he had something far more important to worry about, and he really couldn't bring himself to care about anything outside this hospital, this place that was holding and caring for the love of his life. So, when Drake tentatively brought up the idea of calling Rose, Dee just sighed and said, "Just try to keep him from coming here."

Drake had reported back ten minutes later, telling them that Rose had been extremely short and irritable with him. He'd barked at Drake that he'd take care of everything there, and ordered him to give Dee a smack over the head for creating so many problems for him and everyone else. But then, after Drake told him where they were, apparently Rose had completely changed his tune. It had taken all of Drake's persuasive powers to keep him from coming straight to the hospital, but he'd finally prevailed, and so Dee had at least another day of freedom before he had to face the dragon in its lair.

"Drake," Dee said seriously, as soon as he found out what had gone down. "You…are a _god_. How do you _manage_ him so well?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" Drake countered. "No, no, I can't share my secrets! They might lose their awesome and terrible power!"

Dee took a swipe at him. Drake ducked, laughing slightly, and Dee felt a smile begin to cross his own face as JJ swatted him on the arm with an offended squeak.

"Ryo McLean? Friends and family of Ryo McLean?"

XXX

Dee stood in the doorway of Ryo's room for a few agonizingly long seconds before he had the courage to step inside and move toward the bed. Ryo was facing him, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling gently with each breath. To Dees's intense relief, he had regained a lot of his color, and his face was no longer so deathly pale. But he was also hooked up to a couple of machines and an IV line, and that was a little intimidating…

And then Ryo opened his eyes, and Dee fell into the deep brown pools and immediately forgot whatever he'd been thinking about.

Ryo blinked sleepily at him, and Dee's heart jumped. God, how he loved this man…

"Hi."

The voice was small, weak, and tired, but it was also totally, completely Ryo, and suddenly Dee felt like they'd been apart for a lifetime. No, scratch that…like they'd been apart for _several_ lifetimes.

Like some kind of zombie, Dee moved closer to the bed, stopping only when he was as close as he could get without actually tripping over it. Hesitantly, he reached down and picked up Ryo's hand.

Ryo flinched, and for a moment, there was actual _fear_ in his eyes, fear that broke something in Dee, and made him want to jump off the nearest thirty-story structure. But then those eyes met Dee's, and stared into them, and then his fingers tightened until it hurt, and Ryo sagged back against the pillows.

"Dee, it's so good to see you," he breathed, so softly, so very softly.

Dee wanted, so badly, to ask Ryo what he'd done, what had sparked that cursed fear…but there were more pressing matters at hand than himself.

"Ryo…why didn't you say anything, love? About how stressed you've been?"

Ryo squeezed his hand, and shrugged. "I didn't know, really. I mean, I've been feeling a little off lately, ever since the first time you…it's kinda been like I'm…not all here, y'know? But I didn't know it was anything serious…" Then he shrugged. "Well, anyway, I'm outta here as soon as they finish pumping all these meds into me for the heart thing. They'll probably prescribe something for blood pressure and whatever, and I'll have to take a few days, but I'm gonna be fine, so what does it matter?"

"What does it _matter_?" Dee repeated incredulously. "Are you _kidding_ me?! You nearly _died_, Ryo! _Again_! How could you be that _stupid_?" And then, a beat later, "Ryo, I didn't mean that…God…I…" _Why can't I seem to keep my mouth shut anymore…?_

But Ryo just smiled sweetly at him, and tugged on his hand a little, until he sat down on the edge of the bed. Then he frowned, shook his head in disgust, and pulled him _up_, until they rested side-by-side on Ryo's hospital bed.

"Ryo, what—?"

"I have no idea. Just enjoy it before my shyness rears its ugly head again," Ryo replied, winding his arms around his partner and laying his head on his shoulder. "It feels like…a really long time since we've been able to do this."

Dee smiled, and hugged him back, reveling in the warmth of it. He would have loved to be able to do this forever, but…

"Ryo."

"Hm?" Ryo replied without opening his eyes.

"What happened?"

Now Ryo's eyes opened, stared at him. "What?"

"With me. I know something happened to me, but I can't remember. And…well, I have the worst feeling that I need to apologize to you."

"You don't…"

"Ryo, please. Just…just tell me. I…I have to know. Tell me what I did to you."

So, haltingly, Ryo did. He told the whole story—left nothing out. He didn't look at Dee during the recitation, but Dee didn't take his eyes off _him_. He didn't say a word the entire time, and when Ryo finally fell silent, he still didn't speak—simply wrapped his arms around Ryo, and held him.

Ryo leaned against him, closing his eyes with a quiet sigh, and suddenly, the apology on the tip of Dee's tongue vanished. There was no need, because in that one moment, whatever trust the demon had taken away came sliding back, as if it had never been gone in the first place.

And who knew? Maybe it hadn't.

Maybe it didn't matter.

XXX

When Sam's doctor returned an hour after leaving them in the room—_exactly_ one hour…those guys were just _creepy_, the way they did that—it was to find the Winchesters waiting for him in silence.

Sam hadn't said a word to Dean in that whole time—not since Dean blurted out his theory. He didn't seem _angry_—no, far from it. It was absurdly easy to tell when Sam was angry, and this was not Angry Sam.

No, this was _Scared_ Sam.

Which, actually, was quite a bit worse, because there was nothing Dean could do to fix Scared Sam. Angry Sam was easier—a few hours of general moodiness, a couple of lame jokes, some "Sammys," and everything was fine.

But how was Dean supposed to take care of _this_? How could he tell Sam that he shouldn't be afraid, when deep down he felt exactly the same way? Only _his_ fear was harder to deal with, because he couldn't _show_ it, lest Sam have a heart attack and die and nullify twenty-three years of fighting to keep him alive. So he bottled it up and shoved it down until he felt like he was about to explode, and then he shoved it down some more…

_And damn it, but this isn't getting us anywhere!_ Dean thought angrily, annoyed at the fact that there was really only one way to deal with this.

He would have to talk to his brother. Really _talk_ to him, one-on-one, no jokes or sarcasm to lighten the topic. A true heart-to-heart.

_Oh, God, this is gonna kill me for sure…_

"Hey, Sam—"

"Well, how are we doing, Mr. Mitchell?" the doc said, walking in in the middle of Dean's first attempt.

Dean was trying to figure out whether to deck the guy or worship at his feet as Sam answered. "I'm okay, I guess. Better than before."

"Glad to hear it," the doctor (who has no name—let's say it's because Dean didn't really care to find it out) said, pulling out one of those damned penlights and shining it in Sam's eyes. "No more problems paying attention?" he asked, as he looked for…whatever it is doctors look for in their patients' eyes.

"Nuh-uh. Just a little fuzzy," Sam replied, patiently following the light.

"And you still aren't having any vision problems? Headache? Any ringing in your ears?"

"Nope, it's all normal."

"Hmm…" The doctor looked puzzled, and for a moment Dean was worried that he would try to make Sam stay until he figured out what had been wrong. Luckily, though, after another moment the man pocketed his instrument and stood. "Well, I can't find anything whatsoever wrong with you right now. You, Sam Mitchell, are a free man. Just go down whenever you're ready to sign the release forms, and you can go—preferably for good."

"Thanks, doc," Sam said, and the man smiled at him and turned to leave.

"Oh, and hey…" Dean spoke up. "That guy who came in with us…" He wracked his brain for a moment, and managed to come up with Ryo's real name. "Randy McLean. How's he doing?"

The doctor looked at him. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but since you seem to be friends…" He shrugged. "Randy's apparently been under a lot of stress lately, and he also seems to have been missing out on a lot of sleep. Individually, those things are dangerous. Combined, they could very well kill you. Randy's body just…gave out on him, because he ignored the signs for too long."

"So…will he be okay?" Dean asked, with a bite of impatience in his voice that seemed to amuse Sam greatly, for some reason.

"He should be, yes…provided that he gives himself a break, and stops pushing his luck so hard." The doctor took a look at his watch then, and excused himself without further ado.

Sam slid out of his bed the second he disappeared, and Dean was reaching for him when he shook his head. "I'm fine, Dean."

_Ha. Fine. Sure._

Instead of saying what was on his mind, though, Dean just backed off, and followed his brother wordlessly out of the room and down the hall to the nurses' station.

Now, of course Dean had expected not to see Dee in the waiting area. Obviously, _he_ would be with Ryo, probably until he was physically removed from the premises.

But Dean also had not expected to find the other two officers they'd met at the NYPD there—and engaged in the kind of activity that made most peoples' eyes pop straight out of their heads when it was practiced in public.

Observing the two of them with mild interest as they went at it like the world was coming to an end and this was their last chance, Dean said, "I should probably be more surprised than I am, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Well…I guess they do have the right to be…um…excited. You know, since Dee's back and Ryo's gonna be okay and all…"

Dean rolled his eyes. "That is not just _excited_, Sammy. That's…" Then his eyes, which were still fixed on JJ and Drake in a weird sort of fascination, widened, and he averted them. "Oh, now that is just _wrong_…come on, Sammy, let's get your release forms before they have to take it to the bathroom…"

"Dude, come on. You've totally and completely abused this situation, and now I'm actually able to _notice_ it."

"What're you talking about, Sammy?" Dean asked, all innocence.

Sam glared at him. "Okay, that's it. I'm at my wits' end. Just know—you've brought this on yourself."

"What—?"

"Oh, _hi¸ _officers!" Sam cut him off, calling across the room. "It's so good to _see_ you again!"

Dean was still trying to figure out what Sam's game was when JJ and Drake halted their liplock and looked over at them. Drake simply smiled and waved a polite greeting, but he seemed to be…waiting for something?

Then JJ looked from Sam…to _him_.

"Oh, _look_, it's my new stud! HI, SEXY!" JJ screamed, leaping out of Drake's lap.

"Um…he can't possibly mean what I _think_ he means…right?" Dean asked his brother nervously, as JJ bounded forward. "I mean…he's obviously just coming over here to say 'hi'…AAAHHH! ACK! HELP! SOMEONE! SAM…SAVE ME! I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD! OH, COME ON, MAN, YOU'RE MY _BROTHER!_ AND _YOU_! WHAT ABOUT _YOU?! _ISN'T HE SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND? IS ANYONE GONNA EFFING _SAVE_ ME FROM THIS SEX-CRAZED LITTLE PSYCHO?! HEY…YOU STOP THAT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW! NOOOOO!"

Sam looked on, and for the first time all day, actually smiled. He could just see the grave marker in his mind, for after JJ killed his brother in a bizarre sexual murder.

_Dean Winchester…1980-2007. He died a strong Republican…_

* * *

AN: Okay, so obviously I did _not_ get to the epilogue in this chapter. It just got to be way too long! The explanation? I OD'd on Welch's White Grape Juice—known to me and my best friend and muse as Miracle Juice. I've always wondered what would happen if I did that, and now I know: it makes me unable to _stop._ I didn't think the writing would _ever_ die down. But it did, finally, so I can upload the chapter.

(Let me tell ya, though, the feeling was great while it lasted. I'm sure that you all, being authors, know what that kind of thing feels like—you know, that extremely temporary time when all writing just comes easily, and before you know it you've written a whole chapter. Sadly enough, it doesn't seem to happen very often, but when it does, it's like a freakin' _drug_. I should probably have used it to write my English paper, but I didn't think of that then…)

Well, anyways. I'm done rambling now. I think the juice is starting to wear off, so I'm getting stupider by the second. Better put the usual plea up, before I forget how to _spell_ it…

REV—

…Oh, wait, first of all, I need to tell you that the epilogue will be up very soon.

Okay, NOW I can finish.

REVIEW, S'IL VOUS PLAÎT! (In other words, R.S.V.P.!!!)


	14. Epilogue

Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala with a satisfied sigh, reveling in the fact that they were finally getting out of here. Their bags were packed, the car was loaded, and nothing short of a demon dropping from the sky and landing in the middle of the street was going to keep him here for another hour. Finally, it was back to the open road, just him, Sam, and John Bonham.

Over on the sidewalk, a little in front of the Impala, Sam was saying his goodbyes, and as Dean went over to join him, he was a little surprised at the turnout. He'd expected Morgan and Sari to turn up, of course, but not for Maria Lane to come with them. The three of them had been accompanied by Bikky, who probably had ulterior motives, like dragging Morgan away before anyone could make them go home. JJ had come to continue his stalking, and apparently, wherever _he _went, Drake inevitably followed. Dee and Ryo stood a little off to the side of the throng, the former's arms wrapped around the latter. Ryo was blushing a little, but being close to Dee seemed to be more important than embracing his timidity right now, and for once, when Dean cast around for a joke, he came up with nothing.

Sam was deep in conversation with Morgan when he reached them—probably playing catch up, Dean thought wryly, thinking about how very much there was to catch up _on_. They stopped once he was in earshot, though, so it was fairly obvious exactly what they had been talking about, which was maybe why there was a snap in his voice when he spoke.

"Sam, hurry it up, I wanna beat traffic outta town."

"Dean, we're in New York. There _is_ no beating the traffic," Sam replied, ignoring the tone.

"And drop that tone," Maria added, sounding so like Missouri Mosley that Dean blinked in surprise. "Believe you me, you are _not_ too old for one of my dressing-downs, and _certainly_ not above them." But even as she scolded, her arms reached out, and he stiffened when she hugged him tightly. "Your father was a wonderful man, and _you_ are just like him. Don't ever forget that," she whispered in his ear, just before she let him go.

He was still staring at her, his mouth open a little in shock, when Morgan took her place and swung his arms around Dean, hugging him more rightly than Maria had. Dean snapped out of his surprise enough to hug him back—awkwardly; he was _never_ getting the hang of this—but his eyes were still on the nun, who smiled serenely back at him as if nothing whatsoever had happened.

Well, maybe nothing had.

JJ came next, and Dean pointedly stepped back a pace and stuck out a hand to shake. Sam laughed aloud at that, and Dean glared at him formidably. JJ, however, didn't seem to notice the implied insult—he just beamed and said brightly, "Bye, stud! Be sure to come back and visit us!"

Dean's look must have been fairly comical, because Sam wasn't the only one to laugh at him this time. Even Drake got into it, and wasn't he supposed to play the jealous boyfriend in this scenario?

JJ laughed along with them, though, and that was just _weird_—did he have any idea what he was laughing _at_?

Apparently he did, because about five seconds later he abruptly stopped laughing and said, "Okay, I'm bored. Let's go, Drake." He leaned over and pecked Dean on the cheek, shook Sam's hand vigorously, then grabbed Drake's hand and bounced off without looking back.

"That is…the most _disturbing_ man I have ever met in my entire life," Dean murmured, staring at JJ's back as they left.

Maria laughed. "Well, he may be a whacko, but he's _our_ whacko," she said fondly. "Besides, believe it or not, he's so in love with Drake he can't see straight. He'd probably be quite horrified if you took him seriously. Anyways, I should probably get back to the kids—I left them alone at the orphanage. People could die…"

"Um…Mother, can we…?" Morgan asked tentatively, as Bikky tugged impatiently on his arm.

She looked at him in genuine surprise. "Oh, you're still here? Why?"

Morgan and Bikky being teenagers, this was more than enough for them. They booked outta there, with Sari jogging between them, holding each of their hands, Morgan waving a last goodbye behind them.

Dean had almost forgotten that Dee and Ryo were behind them until Sam went over there to say goodbye. Even when he reached out to shake hands, Dee kept one arm around Ryo, who leaned heavily against him, still a little pale but fairly steady on his feet, for a guy who had just checked out of the hospital AMA—_very_ AMA.

"I know I've said it about a thousand times since yesterday," Ryo said, his voice hoarse and a little sandpapery. "But thanks…for everything."

"Yeah…thanks…" Dee said grudgingly, mostly just looking at Sam. "For, you know, not letting me kill my boyfriend…"

"Yeah, well, that's us—making the world a better place for dysfunctional couples everywhere," Dean replied, with only a touch of sarcasm.

Sam elbowed him, and despite his obvious exhaustion, it quickly became obvious that his strength was undiminished. "It was good to meet you guys. Crappy circumstances, but that's not your fault, right?" Dean grunted and pointedly looked at his watch, and Sam laughed. "All right, all right, you're right, Dean, we should probably go."

"Oh, well, that's such a shame, sorry we gotta go so quick—hazard of the biz, ya know," Dean said quickly, already headed for the car. Behind him, Sam laughed again, and turned back to Ryo and Dee, probably to continue with the polite conversational goodbyes.

_For the love of God, Sam, don't take too long…_

As if spurred on by his silent plea, Sam opened his door barely three minutes later and folded his long limbs inside. As the door _thudded_ shut, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

Dean looked down in surprise as something was pressed into his hand, and saw that he was holding Sam's bottle of painkillers. "Sammy, what—?"

"I want you to hold onto them," Sam explained before he could finish the question. "I've been relying on them too much. I'm not addicted yet, but if I keep like I have been, it won't be long. Only give 'em to me right after a vision or before a fight, okay?"

Dean nodded, and tossed the bottle in the glove compartment before starting the car. "Sure thing, Sammy," he said, glancing at the rearview mirror before pulling out onto the highway. "So…uh…how're ya doin'?" he asked casually after a few minutes of silence.

Sam shrugged and looked down at his knees, picking at an invisible spot on his jeans. "I'm…fine, I guess. You know…considering." He was silent for a moment, then said, "Dean…I remembered something about last night."

Dean didn't so much as glance at him, much less reply, but his jaw tightened with tension.

"I only remembered this morning, but it's been bugging me since yesterday."

"Well, what was it?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Anger," Sam said abruptly. "I felt anger. A _lot_ of it. And…I don't know how, but I _know_ it didn't come from that demon. It came from…me. Or…something _in_ me, at least. And it didn't even seem to…_belong_ to me." He clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles going white. "Dean, I'm scared, man. I'm scared…"

And no matter that he was Sam's brother, the one who was supposed to protect him, to calm his fears, to chase away his nightmares—Dean had no answer for that.

XXX

**Meanwhile**

**The 27th Precinct**

Berkley Rose stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, at the computer screen, from which a giant picture of Dean Winchester looked penetratingly at him.

"…HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME WE WERE HARBORING A KNOWN CRIMINAL?!"

* * *

AN: Well, there it is! That's the last of it! Many, many thanks to my reviewers:

_Raven Black_

_Winchester13_

_Freya_

_Calliope Della Corte_

_Minkster_

_friendly_

I really did appreciate them! I do hope you'll come back for more!


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